


The Ashes of the Cuatro Espada

by Second_Best



Series: Bleach [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heterosexuality, Hueco Mundo Arc, Lemon, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 113,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7401904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Second_Best/pseuds/Second_Best
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Inoue and her friends return from Hueco Mundo, Inoue finds remnants of Ulquiorra's ashes in her Arrancar uniform.<br/>She is faced with conflicting feelings, remembering the Cuatro Espada and her time of captivity at Las Noches.<br/>After a momentous turn of events, she finds herself pondering the extent of her temporal regression powers and entertaining dangerous thoughts.<br/>Could she truly throw away everything Ichigo and her friends had done to rescue her?</p><p>[Warnings of graphic depictions of violence, angst, possible lemons, and bloodshed ahead. Do tread with this warning in mind!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Karakura Town: Inoue's Home

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'll add notes as I go along because I am fumbling around in the dark with another late fandom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If this is worth continuing, please do leave a Kudos or comment so I'll know whether I should press on or not.  
> Thank you in advance for reading however far!!!

The Rejection of Fate was a mysterious power. 

There were a lot of things Inoue Orihime didn't understand about it. She took it as it came, and did what she could with it.  
But she was working towards a growth that she couldn't predict.  
Was there even much more to work for?  
Was she already hitting a wall?  
It seemed, beyond the basic principles of her shield, the 6 fairies of her hairpin didn't tell her things she couldn't know yet.  
Maybe they were just as clueless because the power they could later comprehend, lay dormant in her. 

Even Yoruichi and Urahara couldn't fully grasp the basic principles of a "Rejection."  
Together with Rukia, they trained her reaction time, her physical prowess, her coordination with various stimuli and the battle strategies best suited to her close range of attack and defense.  
But really, they didn't know all the tips and tricks to bring out whatever Shun Shun Rikka had.  
So far, Urahara's research brought nothing substantial to the table, save for a flicker of similar episodes involving the elusive FullBringers.  
Soul Society's vast library resources revealed even less. 

She was still a mystery.  
... And Ulquiorra was gone. 

The ginger-haired girl sat there above the ceiling of that azure sky after everything was over, ignoring the way the rubble was hurting her knees, not realizing all the little nicks and scratches and the tear on her Arrancar dress' right sleeve.  
She was only thinking of Ulquiorra's hand.  
The dust that broke away from it as it disintegrated before her reach...  
The granules, feathery as ashes left between the cracks of her damp palm as she closed over nothing but heat and powder...

"Now I understand." came the low whisper, in that all-knowing tone he always had.  
It didn't waver. His luminous eyes never left her face as he disappeared.  
It was odd, incomplete somehow.  
And it left a dark, poisonous mark like Aizen's psychological inflictions. 

Ishida's breathing didn't sound good. There was a disturbing rattle that erupted as he heaved, and Inoue was not trained in medicine at all - but she could tell from the many battles that this was a serious issue involving his ribs and perhaps, a punctured lung.  
"Soten Kisshun!"  
Ulquiorra's emerald eyes were on her mind as she formed the golden shield around the Quincy.  
Ulquiorra, as he unflinchingly pulled the Zanpakutou from the archer's gut and tossed it at Ichigo's feet.  
She couldn't help the bubble of panic and nausea at the sight of Ishida. The anger she felt, brimming as she watched the battle ensue.  
Inoue forced down the rising bile in her throat, and focused on assisting the Quincy, but her eyes continually flitted between Ichigo and the Arrancar's Resurrecion.  
The trepidation, the frustration, and the pain continued to build into a final crescendo above Las Noches. 

"Let's finish this."  
It seems Ulquiorra hadn't felt anything at all.  
Not even the coming of his own death or how far gone he was. 

He hadn't felt anything at all.  
It shouldn't bother her, but it did. 

She looked down at the black ashes stuck to the sweat on her palm and then she pushed the hand into her Arrancar dress and clutched at the garment as she cried.  
It really was over. 

\---

"Inoue..."  
Ichigo was looking at her, almost with pitying eyes.  
At the state he was in, she should have been the one looking at him that way.  
The bandages wrapped around his chest peeked out from undone buttons on his shirt, and a band-aid covered 3/4ths of a scar across one jaw.  
He was always so selfless and so reckless.  
Her eyes softened and she felt a mild familiar heat taint her cheeks.  
He'd gone so far this time, for someone like her.  
He'd gone beyond death. 

"Yoruichi got you a change of clothes. You don't have to wear that disgusting outfit anymore."

"Kurosaki-kun," She looked up at him almost embarrassed,  
"I think... I can take care of it myself."  
"...But..." Ichigo attempted again, with a stubborn clash of ginger eyebrows.  
Ishida gave her a careful sideways glance, but all she had to do was give her brightest smile and they'd let it drop. 

It was just an outfit. 

\---

The first night she got back to her own bed was the first time in a long time she felt an almost intolerable loneliness that was a fever-pitch compared to her usual.  
She had been on a rollercoaster, and fed so many emotions, both distressingly traumatizing and gloriously fulfilling...  
And now that they were back in Karakura Town, she felt strangely... 

"Your meal."  
She almost heard the clipped tone. "Eat."  
Sharply, Inoue jerked her eyes up in the darkness.  
She found herself looking directly at the Arrancar dress discarded in a heap on a chair. It lay crumpled, illuminated by the moon's glow, in all its tattered, grimy Hueco Mundo dirt, and her sweat. 

A weight, terrifying but empty - akin to deafening silence fell like a thick blanket around her.  
"Do I have to strap you down and force the food down your throat?" He stood there at the door of her chambers, slit pupils in mute observation.  
At the time, it was a genuine question. 

Her feet padded softly against the apartment wooden floors and Inoue extended a hand, watching the moon reflect off the tips of her fingers, the slivers of light slicing between the cracks. She ghosted a touch over the almost-familiar fabric and found herself dipping into the pocket. She touched at a coarseness she realized was sand. 

Lifting her hand out, she flicked the light switch and looked down half-heartedly, rubbing her fingers together studying it.  
Among the specks of white, were bigger black tatters.  
Instantaneously, a displaced feeling clenched up in her chest, and she stood frozen, gray eyes staring at the black flakes.

This was no sand.  
This was Ulquiorra's remains. 

\---

The Rejection of Fate worked according to how much Inoue's soul willed it to.  
That was one thing the girl understood.  
She had gathered the black ashes, along with sand, almost in a trance. Emptying out the pocket, very carefully into a bowl, tediously moving each fragile piece to the middle.  
Her Geometry book fell to the floor beside her futon, and she didn't notice as she set the bowl down where it had been, continually staring at the specks. 

Her will was dangerous, and it made no sense why she was doing this.  
_What did you mean?_  
"Are you afraid of me, woman?"  
_Ulquiorra._  
An Espada who could not fathom the very idea of a "bond," had spoken his last words, and those words consumed her, leaving a gaping hole like the one through his sternum. 

Inoue got up from the table and left the bowl after covering it with plastic wrap.  
Then she pulled the covers over her head and blinked into the darkness, hearing her own breaths and what she realized was a thrashing heartbeat.  
Thoughts latched onto her even as she tried to shake them off.  
"This is crazy..." She whispered hesitantly, a finger prying at her lip.  
Why didn't she destroy the ashes, burn the outfit, feel the need to get rid of all evidence she had ever been a willing captive and servant.  
What was she holding on to.  
This went against everything her friends had fought for.  
This directly negated her rescue.  
She felt shame burn through her, and she buried deeper into the futon in pained frustration. 

But Ulquiorra's words, she found herself playing them over and over in her mind.  
He was always so certain about things he could see. 

What did he see?  
She closed her eyes. 

"Your heart..." She looked up at him as his shoulders broke apart and crumbled.  
He remained unfazed by the rapid disintegration, and seemed to forget entirely about the substitute shinigami a few meters away.  
It seemed the only interesting thing he bothered to look at was her.

"What is a heart?"  
His fingers were suddenly there, pressing lightly over her sternum.  
He was no longer in his Segunda Etapa form, instead now wearing his neatly-pressed Hakama and coat.  
They were standing among columns of ivory pillars towering over marble floors.  
Inoue's throat felt dry.  
"Why is it important to you?" She whispered, eyes wandering up to that pale face.  
"I am asking the questions." He stated quietly.  
As the Cuatro Espada, he could very well plunge his hand into her chest, easily break through skin, tissue and bone; and grab the organ.  
He'd get his answer then.  
But his eyes never left her face.  
"If I rip open your chest, will I see it?" His eyes pulsed. 

Ulquiorra was dangerous. 

She knew this the moment she first saw him in the passageway between worlds. It became even more apparent when his lithe frame first entered her cell.  
The Espada's slender form and subdued manner of speaking clearly betrayed the level of power hidden under his Hierro.  
Inoue felt it, just as she felt Aizen's presence.  
It rippled in the same overbearing fashion, carefully controlled.  
She was standing in her chamber.  
The inky reiatsu filling the room, like dead space pressing down from the ceiling.  
It seemed he didn't bother suppressing it this time.  
The full weight of it shocked her, causing her knees to buckle - her body trembling.  
"If I crack your skull open, will I see it?" His familiar voice said, startlingly close to her ear.  
Inoue tensed as the Espada broke away from the shadows next to her.  
He took a short step. And then his bone helmet gave a sudden, startling crunch, and a small crack began snaking down, jagged and splitting on one side.  
Inoue looked up in horror to realize one of her fairies, Tsubaki had collided into it, sending shards of bone flying. 

"But I didn't call..." Inoue's stomach gave a lurch.  
She instinctively clutched at her hairpin. "I didn't-"  
Ulquiorra's eyes widened a fraction, but his face gave nothing else away save for the slight tensing of his jaw.  
He straightened, fingers brushing dangerously at his sword.  
And the very sight of him grasping the handle sent her into a full panic.  
"Please, no!" Inoue cried out, suddenly fearful.  
He would kill her.  
She was going to die.  
She would never see Kurosaki-kun or the rest of her friends again.  
Inoue turned around, and broke into a run trying to escape.  
A Gillian snagged her arm as she flew by, and she tore away from it as it growled, crying out and willing her legs of lead faster.  
Nearing a corridor, she propelled herself forward and almost plummeted into emptiness. Her foot slipped over the edge and she barely clutched at the rock before the scene suddenly changed in a blink. 

She was standing below a desaturated sky.  
It was the Hueco Mundo above the fake ceiling of Las Noches.  
Disoriented, Inoue turned to the side, teetering off-balance because the rock edifice was gone. And then Ulquiorra's hand had snatched her wrist as she tipped, and she cried out, whirling around to face him.  
Every fiber of her shook even as he held on with a firm grip.  
Her wrist was small wrapped around his fingers...  
He could so very easily crush it.  
Hueco Mundo's crooked moon reflected Ulquiorra's slashed irises and they glistened.  
In the emerald hue, Inoue could see cracks of a lighter muter green she had never noticed before. 

" Now I understand." His voice was strangely patient.  
The Cuatro Espada leisurely closed the gap towards her, his face lingered now only inches away.  
So close Inoue could feel the Arrancar's raven locks, those feathered tips touching her cheek and chin.  
The immensity of his spiritual pressure washed into her skin, and she broke out in gooseflesh as she gasped, her long ginger locks whipping out. 

"Your heart..."

His pale fingers splayed across her throat, eyes calmly following his own measured movement over her skin.  
He would strangle her, she realized.  
Only, Ulquiorra didn't.  
His eyes met hers in keen observation.  
And then his face abruptly lowered and his lips pressed on hers with startling accuracy. 

"Nn!!!"  
She struggled against him with wide eyes, grabbing blindly at a curve of bone from his Hollow mask. She pulled down hard, and it made a sound as the tip snapped beneath her fingers, powdered bits of it crumbled over her palm.  
Despite him being the enemy, the horror and surprise of her harming anyone or thing sent a spiral of dread through her. She dropped the piece of bone and weakened as he pulled away from her lips. And just as she opened her mouth to speak, he blew apart in a swirling flow of ashes and dust.  
She felt the weight of fingers on her jaw. And then the touch was gone.  
Those eyes faded away last, empty, but strangely melancholic.  
And then Inoue was falling. 

In the dark, her breath hitched and her thoughts taking this unexpected turn forced her to jolt awake.  
She tore off the sheets with short gasps, tripping out of the futon in the process.  
"A dream, a dream, a dream-" she unconsciously chanted, her breaths tumbling out with the words, bubbling into a frantic sob. "A dream, a dream..."  
She wildly kicked the blanket from her ankles, her subconscious fearing the claws of Gillians, and upon stumbling into a corner, Inoue curled into a ball, gasping the chant repeatedly. Her fingers fluttering over her lips as she spoke.  
Her heart was thrashing and she felt a bout of nausea overtake her as she lurched into the tatami, head spinning.  
This heavy feeling again. Distress, coupled with the confusion of the incident still fresh in her mind overtook her.  
And she sobbed, rocking herself, refusing to look at the table, and what was on it. 

 

Inoue didn't sleep a wink that night. 

\---


	2. Las Noches: The Chambers of Orihime

"I can't believe it."  


Tatsuki was staring at her from the corner of her eye.  
Inoue quickly noticed and looked up at her before giving an embarrassed laugh and combing one hand unconsciously through her ginger locks.  
"I guess there's a first time for everything, huh?"  
"Are you absolutely sure?" The raven-haired girl slowly asked.  
"Mm, Yeah... I left the questions blank." Inoue felt her cheeks flame and she tapped them idly. "I didn't answer a single one..."  
"I definitely failed that test." She sighed with a resigned nod and took a natto bean peanut butter onigiri out from her bento. 

"I've never seen you fail _any_ test, Orihime." Tatsuki's eyes widened.  
Inoue was just about to give another small laugh despite the sinking in her gut, when Tatsuki's hand was suddenly swooping down over her face.  
She instinctively blocked it by grabbing her wrist.  
"Tatsuki-chan!" Her onigiri dropped to her skirt.  
"Oops," The raven-haired girl laughed and flicked at her best friend's button nose, "But wow, Inoue, prepared as always!"  
"Oh,-- My lunch!"

They walked home together at the end of the day, laughing and talking about the new cherry tarts from the bakery around the corner and Tatsuki's plans to adopt a pet gerbil from Chizuru, and by the time Inoue reached the gate to her flat, she was feeling settled.  
"Thanks..." The ginger-haired girl clasped her hands in front of her skirt and smiled.  
"For what?" Tatsuki blinked, slinging her bag higher over her shoulder.  
"Just for being such a great friend... even if I..." Inoue trailed off.  


Tatsuki looked at her, and Inoue chased the silence with a smaller smile.  
This seemed to be the Orihime way to assure people of a good end to things.  


"I haven't always been there for you. And sometimes I just run off without saying anything. I'm really so sorry."  
She clapped her hands and bowed slightly.  
Tatsuki slipped her fingers through her spikey hair and snorted.  
"C'mon, Orihime." She looked down, uneasy at the formality.  
"You know if you need anyone, I'll always have your back, so don't be afraid to tell me things."  
Inoue softened, her gray eyes catching the tints of the sunset.  
"Thank you." 

\---

The first thing Inoue did after she'd lain her coat beside her dresser and hung her bag neatly over her chair was walk to the center of the guest room and look down at the plastic-covered bowl.  


She didn't know why her hands had balled into fists, curling and uncurling at her chest as she stood there studying those harmless little flecks.  
The same displaced feeling crept over her and the remnants of her nightmare came back.  
The feel of those lips, not entirely icy, but less than warm...  
His eyes as they faded off into nothing, the taste of smoky ash in the air...  
Without a second thought, she took the bowl and walked to the kitchen sink, fingers peeling insistently at the saran wrap.  
Her eyes hardened, even as her hands shook.  
She needed to dispose of this.  
There was something about the ashes that seemed to be holding her back from focusing in this world.  
As if a fragment of herself - the same fragment that had forgotten all about her Geometry exam - just as small as those grains, had been left behind brushing along the floors and pillars of Las Noches and the sky above the fake ceiling.  


She bit hard on her bottom lip and pried the plastic film away, her fingers tightening around the sides.  
\---

"Meaningless human behavior..." Ulquiorra watched, eyes calculating as always.  


It seemed he was never involved in war or the petty squabbles of fellow Espada.  
His coat and Hakama didn't hold a single wrinkle as he stood expressionlessly over what he'd done.  
Inoue's mouth parted, and then decidedly closed.  


She was never good at explaining things eloquently and didn't have a certain way with words like Ishida-kun did.  
So how could she begin to talk about the ethics of sparing life with an evolved Hollow like him?  
Despite that, she must have looked as if she'd wanted to say something.  
Anything visible, Ulquiorra's eyes could take note of, and Inoue realized the accessory pinned to her hair currently had his attention.  
"Spare your power, the creature is dead." He concluded, not bothering to move his foot from the mess.  


"You didn't have to kill it..." Inoue couldn't help whispering.  
Her fingers twitched with the urge to mend and she restrained herself from moving.  
She could see a shard of Hollow skull beside the Espada's sandal.  
One wing of the creature was splayed, still intact, and a dark pool of tar trickled beneath it.  


Ulquiorra had simply flicked a finger, and where his red energy struck, a small marble-sized crater had chinked into the tile.  
Nothing but charred remains and a hissing evaporation was left of the act.  
She didn't know if she could save it, but something in her wanted to try.  


Only...  
She was so very, very scared. 

"Woman," his tone lingered at a dangerous note,  


"-my subordinates do not bring you food to share with the creatures of Hueco Mundo. This food is for you alone."  
The girl bit at her inner cheek and averted her face, long locks slipping across her cheek.  
"It was only curious..." She murmured, clenching at a sleeve.  
"To what purpose do you indulge its useless curiosity? These creatures merely consume spirit particles and as such, they have no need for buttered toast." Ulquiorra flatly explained, missing the point.  
Inoue seemed to grow slightly sadder.  
"Should it be such a trifling concern," The Arrancar stepped back, eyes still on her.  
"A Bala is hundreds of times faster than a regular Cero. There is no chance for it to feel pain."  
Despite his lack of empathy and belief in emotions, she realized the Cuatro Espada analyzed facial expression quite well.  
He had already dissected her feelings based on them.  


Was that why Aizen put him in charge?  


"But, you couldn't really know that. What if it still had a consciousness of some sort?" The girl whispered in vain, eyebrows delicate drawing together.  
Ulquiorra didn't seem offended or particularly interested in pondering the sentience of Hueco Mundo wildlife.  
So the ginger-haired girl said nothing else, casting a glance instead outside the bars of her chamber, from where the bird-like Hollow had flown in.  
"Why do you feel a need to give attention to something so minute."  
The Arrancar's voice was just about as toneless, as his eyes were emotionless.  
But Inoue was vaguely surprised that he'd even bothered to ask, if it were a question.  
She realized she wasn't quite so sure.   
He hadn't taken an interest to anything save for the careful relay of Aizen's instructions, and describing what would be the beginnings of her daily regimen.  


"I-" Her fingers clenched into her skirt.  
"I just do. If there is no need to kill, it's better not to."  
She answered anyway.  
This statement seemed to get through to him somehow because his mouth tightened imperceptibly.  


"I know my place is here." Inoue started, slowly.  
"My loyalty has been sworn to helping Aizen. I submitted willingly, to spare my friends."  
"Correct..." He provided, eyes never leaving her face.  
"And you will call him _Lord_ Aizen."  


She stopped herself from reacting to that title. 

"But, the ties I have to the Human and Shinigami World make me who I am, and what I believe, I can't abandon those things. Even if you keep me here, I can always wish for a happier time, and dream of the life I left behind, and hope for something more... I'm human. I have emotions."  
Inoue straightened, feeling some form of purpose returning to her, hearing her own bold declarations.  
This was right.  
To remember what she and her friends stood for.  
It was dangerous, grasping for straws when she didn't have much to work with.  
She couldn't predict this Arrancar and knew only that he was a strangely placid sort that harbored little mercy or emotion.  
But Inoue's humanitarian nature and her open honesty always seemed to manifest whether it saved her or felled her.  
She took the gamble all the time.  
She took it right in that Passageway when she decided healing her Shinigami guides were more important than her own safety.  
He hadn't stopped her then, so maybe he wasn't _that_ bad?  


"I believe in the good of things, in sparing life and saving people." Inoue began.  
"Being merciful, and using my gifts to heal... To help everyone, Sado-kun, Ishida-kun... Kurosaki-kun-"  
The words died in her throat interrupted by the green of his eyes as they slid up to hers.  
Those slit-pupils were unnerving, constantly reminding her of how different he was, despite the close semblance of most everything else about him being human.  
That look had a distinct way of assessing her.  
It almost made her feel like every inch of her face was being dissected.  


She'd obviously gotten carried away stating the names of her friends, as if each of them needed a special mention.  
Too distracted, thinking about the fiery-haired boy to notice that Ulquiorra had somehow silently walked up to her in that stalking way of his.  
She suppressed the urge to flinch from him as he lowered, not wanting to be rude.  
He had a rag on the floor now, and had neatly wrapped the dead creature in it.  


"Go on?" He asked in a precarious tone.  


Inoue lowered her face.  
The idea her friends had come to rescue her...  
It gave her a certain strength, and she felt their warmth, their assurance, well up inside her.  


"Kurosaki-kun is..." The name escaped unthinkingly.  
Her chest clenched painfully sweet. And she felt a mixture of guilt, sadness and joy.  


"We will kill them before they ever reach this part of Las Noches."  
The Arrancar's voice broke into her thoughts abruptly.  
She jerked her face up at the dangerous tone, meeting that cold, dead stare.  


"I would save myself the trouble of even hoping for Kurosaki Ichigo."  
He slowly rose.  


The Cuatro had a way with words.  
Though his tone didn't seem to harden, it was laced with a certain finality that sent dread through the shield user.  
"Such foolishness is appalling. The Espada need only wait for the command to be issued, and you will regret they had ever decided to set foot in this world."  


Those words struck fear in her, as if he had terrorized her very person.  
In her precarious condition, it pushed her right off the edge of her frayed little nerves.  
Inoue could no longer see clearly, and she realized her eyes had started to blur with tears.  
Not knowing what else to say to alleviate the situation, and fearing she would only make things worse, Inoue merely looked down and discreetly swiped at the dampness.  


The Espada stared at her for a few more seconds, unmoved.  
And then he took a step back, circling the food cart to drop the rag into the waste bin behind it.  


"My job is to ensure you be in a proper state. Fit to fulfill your purpose, should Lord Aizen have any need for it." He explained in a quiet tone.  
Something about his statement, tossed casually as if she were simply some object to be maintained, sparked a small anger in her.  
"It is obvious you are in no frame of mind to eat." He slipped his hands into his pockets.  
"I am willing to wait until you have controlled your emotions, and readied your appetite."  


"You won't force the food down my throat, or stick an IV in me?"  
Inoue didn't know where she found the gall to ask, but it had already left her lips before she knew it, her meekness temporarily forgotten, laced with slight defiance.  


Ulquiorra was silent, but she knew without looking that he was analyzing this new, bolder dynamic.  
When he finally spoke, she almost welcomed it.  
"Those measures are reserved for displays of stubborn resistance, as you had demonstrated briefly during the first day of your captivity."  
"I was ..." Inoue trailed off, "I was just sad. Like I am right now."  
"No matter. You refused to eat, despite indications of physical distress." He murmured.  


"I... - physical distress?" She blinked.  
"Your stomach." Ulquiorra gave a minute lowering tilt of chin.  
"Air pockets and gas in human intestines. I am well-aware when a living body requires a feeding."  
His eyes swept over her form. "I observe, and I listen."  
The last thing Inoue expected was to be embarrassed in front of an Espada casually pointing out he'd heard her stomach growling.  
She reddened wordlessly.  
Ulquiorra didn't particularly seem to notice.  
And if he did, he had already dismissed the observation as irrelevant.  


"For this particular situation, unnecessary." He finished, slipping one hand from his pocket and taking the dome from her plate.  
"Though I assume... it will help if you see your meal." His voice softened.  


If the girl didn't know any better, she'd think he spoke almost gently.  
But Ulquiorra's tone could very easily be mistaken for that, when it was only really despondent.  
Not wanting to agitate the situation, she submitted to inspecting her food.  
Her stomach gave a nervous roll at the sight, and she knew she couldn't eat even if she attempted to.

"I'm sorry..." Inoue worried her lip. "I... I really don't have an appetite right now."  
Inoue heard a faint exhale from him.  
Something she would have missed entirely if the wind had still been howling the way it did moments ago.  
"As I said, I will remain until you manage one." His quiet voice finally said.

True to his word, Ulquiorra stayed.  
Each time someone knocked, he would walk to the door and state his purpose to monitor her.  
Oftentimes, Inoue caught a glimpse of the creatures and their twisted masks from the crack of her doorway.  
In faint murmurs, they would lower their heads and Ulquiorra would give clipped answers.  
And they would take it as a sign to leave, giving slight bows to dismiss themselves.  
None of them looked the Arrancar in the eye.  
His presence was never questioned, at least not loudly enough for her to hear.  
And it seemed there was no important person Inoue could see, Espada or otherwise, that came to bother him. 

After what she felt was a two hour stretch, Inoue realized Ulquiorra's patience was almost admirable.  
It certainly seemed to outlast Kurosaki-kun's.  
Though there was no telling the time, she felt enough of it had passed.  
Just enough that she was indeed starting to get hungry.  
Her tears were gone, and her cheeks felt taut where the dampness evaporated.  


Still the Espada stood there, lingering with his sights out the window, on her, or on his sheathed sword in a carefully-ministrated cycle of discipline without an utterance of complaint.  
As the moments stretched, Inoue realized his thoughts were elsewhere, and suspected he might have been tuning in to Garganta Broadcasts like the one he'd shown her in the Passageway during her abduction.  


Ulquiorra's eyes were closed when she finally started to inspect the contents of the meal.  
As if he's been completely aware, those inhuman eyes opened to silently observe her as she picked up a slice of cornbread.   
Inoue bit heartily on one end, giving him a less guarded look.  
The Cuatro only stared back, seeming to wait for something. And then his shoulders loosen a fraction at the sight of her swallowing.  
He stepped away from the wall with the first semblance of purposeful movement and broke away from his looming guard over her.  
So long as food was being eaten, the captive was sustaining herself and he was doing his duty. 

"Would you like to sit?" She asked softly.  
His eyes remained empty, but fixated. "The purpose for this being?"  
"It's just, you've been..." The girl ventured before deciding to discard the invitation.  
"It was just a thought." Inoue's voice dwindled off, removing her gaze from his rigid stance.  
She seemed to give up on being cordial altogether and fell silent, focusing instead on sipping at her soup broth as quietly as she could. 

After a second, the Arrancar spoke.  
"Does my presence make you uncomfortable?"  
That was such an understatement Inoue almost laughed, if she didn't feel so hopelessly exhausted. 

"You are... just a little intimidating." The girl gently provided.  
After what he'd done to abduct her, how could she _not_ feel uncomfortable?  
It wasn't his size and appearance that was menacing.  
He didn't tower over her or have an impressive body-builder's physique, he didn't holler and roar and smash things as a means to intimidate her, and she had never truly seen him angry...  
On the contrary, he was lean in build, he was entirely patient and was much too subtle in his voice and in his movement, and he was just of an average height really.  
Abarai-kun or Sado-kun easily stood much taller.  
But it was something Inoue could sense inside him.... That was what made the hairs on her neck stand on alert.  
A malevolent and creeping coldness he was keeping carefully controlled.  
His appearance was a deception, because she knew Ulquiorra was entirely dangerous.  
He was fast and he was ruthlessly unpredictable.  
Only...  
Her delicate eyebrows furrowed as she felt for his Spiritual Presence in the room.  
The Reiatsu on him now... felt different.  
... Not just different. But small.  


If Spirit Resonance were like a radio, it seemed as if Ulquiorra had flipped to a station for easy Sunday afternoons and turned the volume knob all the way down until there was barely a thrum of guitars and a slow, casual beat caught in the frequency.

The Arrancar didn't move.  
Inoue knew that despite how he presented himself to her, if Aizen hadn't issued his orders, she would no doubt be dead.  
Lying in a heap of crusted blood and rotting flesh in the Passageway between worlds.  
Something in her posture changed and her breath tripped because he'd taken a step and placed the pitcher of water closer to her arm.  


"You are afraid." That voice lowered with certainty.  
Sharp pupils dilating at the jerk of her forearm. 

Images of the two injured Shinigami who had guided her through the passage flashed through her mind, the blood trickling along the cavern walls, the way he'd calmly stated his conditions for her capture, as if he were reading from a non-negotiable contract.  
She didn't have time to mull things over even if he acted as if they had all the leisure to stay in that dark hole.  
Staring up at his reptilian eyes, she had been terrified because there was something there.  
Despite the melancholic look, there was only that terrifying weight rippling through his coat, pressing down on her shoulders like thick, black tar.  
The feeling of complete despair.  
The girl lowered her eyes.  


"How could I not be afraid." came her small, shaking whisper.  
There was a vast stretch of silence that seemed to span a small eternity.  
Outside, another bird-like creature flitted past the bars, and the clouds rolled away from the crooked moon. 

"So long as you fulfill your service, you have no reason to fear me."

Inoue looked away from the view, only to see Ulquiorra's back already slipping out of the room.  
There was only the sound of slight creaking as the door to her chamber clanged shut behind him.  
She sat there, discovering she had a fresh urge to cry again for no one particular reason.  
She only knew, she was lonely.  
And being alone made this emptiness even more painful. 

The "days" and "nights" at Hueco Mundo stretched out in her cell the moment she stepped in.  
So much so she'd lost the passage of time.  
Even counting seconds under her breath didn't seem right and felt displaced.  
As if there were no true measure to anything. 

And so, Ulquiorra became her marker for the time of day.  
Instead of a sun rising and setting, instead of a night falling and fading,  
she would have him and a companion Adjuchas enter with meals, thrice a day.  
At first, she dreaded the sounds of the latch unhinging, the door to her chamber opening, the pooling glow from the doorway, and the green-eyed Arrancar who gave her a mute greeting as he stood there, obscuring the light.

Only...  
Eventually, she began to depend on it, perhaps for the sake of her sanity.

\---

She didn't know how long she had been standing at the sink.  
Something along her shoulders bristled as she stared, almost transfixed at the bowl in her hands.  
By now, she'd obsessively memorized all of the 6 ashen flecks in that bowl, like the 6 fairies of her hibiscus hairpins.  
One of them even looked a bit like a four-leaf clover.  
She could feel something, similar to the stirrings of particularly powerful reiatsu from far away.  
She wondered briefly if it belonged to Kurosaki-kun, and if he was fighting a Hollow. At this range, it was hard to tell...  


No.  


Her head tilted in slow realization.  
After Kurosaki-kun fought his battle with Aizen, he'd begun to lose his abilities.  
That burst of power couldn't be his... Could it?  
He had sacrificed all his development to kill Aizen.  
For them. All of them in Karakura Town.  
Her stomach clenched at the sudden guilt and she closed her eyes.  
Her fingers loosened on the bowl.  
What was she doing. What was she thinking.  


"Kill me." came his resigned murmur.  
"Make it quick, because I can hardly stand."  


Her chest tightened and she tipped the bowl slightly, watching those fragile pieces of ash float atop Hueco Mundo sand.  
"Just when I was starting to become interested..." His voice was fading.  
She was reaching out.  
Her fingers closed over nothing.  
The girl felt her throat constrict and suddenly the moment, standing there at the sink about to toss the last of what he was, felt wrong.

"Ulquiorra..." She whispered.  
Only silence answered.  
He never did say her name.  
And in the dark, the girl wondered if he ever knew it at all.

\---


	3. Urahara's Sweets Shop: The Visitors Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'd wanna gauge if there is enough interest for me to continue.  
> If it's not too much to ask, please leave a Kudos or a Comment to let me know if this is worth anyone's time at all.  
> Thank you as always, if you've bothered to read this far.  
> I am entirely grateful for the chance. 
> 
> ... ULQUIME lives!!! :D <3

\---

"I'm a mess." She mumbled.  
The bowl and all its contents once again lay atop the table covered in plastic wrap.  
Inoue paced along the guest room, idly tapping her fingers on her crossed arm, moving back and forth from wall to wall.  
She slapped a palm to her forehead to chastise herself in frustration. And then she slapped her cheeks with both hands, a few more times, moaning into a heap on the mat.

Why is this even a problem?  
She clenched a fist and scrunched her face.  
_I should tell Kurosaki-kun._

Something inside her objected and she realized it was because she already knew exactly how that encounter would play out.  
Ichigo would give her a wide-eyed stare for a few seconds. A flare of anger would cross his handsome, pointed features followed by a grim shadow. He would internally be reflecting back on the fight and partially mourning the wasted loss; and after asking a quick "why do you still keep it" and listening for all of 30 seconds, he would continue to watch her struggle with the words she couldn't express, feel increasingly bad for having her explain, and then tell her she didn't **need** to explain, and that it was okay. **He** would throw it out immediately without question for her.  
... Because Kurosaki-kun always did the difficult things for her.  
"Don't worry about it, Inoue." He'd clap a hand lightly over her shoulder and walk off.  
"I'll take care of it."

But maybe this time, Inoue didn't want him to.  
It was clear what she had to do.  
Something in her just didn't want to do it. 

Again, the Cuatro flashed through her mind.  
"Now, I understand." His voice echoed faintly along the edges of her consciousness. 

And Inoue realized then, sitting up with a jolt, that whatever kept her from throwing his ashes down her kitchen pipes was a flimsy spark of Hope.  
A Hope that she had unconsciously placed in him as a result of all her days in captivity. It stemmed from the Hope that he would protect her because it was his duty, Hope he would not harm her so long as she was essential to him. 

Hope that perhaps, when he disintegrated into ash, he had finally realized something important when she reached out for his essence and felt the warmth.  
Some important realization that - if he could in any way return - would make him a different person.  
Inoue realized that Ulquiorra was a broken monster, who was also once just a lost soul like many in this world, consumed by a Hollow, and eaten by many other Hollows to evolve into a cunning, analytical, and ruthless consciousness encased in Nihilism.  
... And she wanted to fix him.  
She looked over at the bowl, heart suddenly starting to pound, almost cursing her impulsive need to mend people.  
Again, she felt chills down her neck and her body reacting to spiritual pressure.  
_What is that?_

 

At 3:30am, the orange-haired girl was out the door in a padded jacket and leggings.  
The streets were cold, damp and empty in the middle of autumn.  
She should have been questioning her actions.  
But Inoue strangely didn't feel the need.  
As if walking through unlit streets, plunging into possible ditches, running into murderers or perhaps encountering a carefully suppressed Vasto Lorde, was just another part of her witching-hour stroll tracking down this strange, yet familiar feeling.

Everything she'd come back from in the past year - All the death and battle, seeing Ichigo growing more and more powerful, more unrecognizable, and eventually witnessing him having his chest blown open from the sheer force of a fist, watching him die, the light fading from his golden-flecked eyes, watching many of her friends and foes bargain with death, and then bringing them back...  
All the trauma and taint had done something to her.  
As if a part of her had been discarded, or taken, or perhaps replaced - And the girl sitting in the classroom, laughing with friends atop the school roof eating weird bentos, passing in homework - was no longer her.  
It was like being in a Gigai with the sole purpose of appearing normal to everyone else. Only she felt, there was something missing. 

Orihime was treading a particularly dark path following nothing but the small prickles ghosting along her neck and arms... But she knew as she rounded a corner, emerging on to the vast square lot with patches of untrimmed grass, and cracked earth that she'd come to the place the spiritual energy was bursting from. 

She raised her eyes to the sign above the shop and hesitantly stepped up to the door. 

\---

"Honestly, Inoue-san..." The sandy-haired man lowered to a cross-legged sit beside her on the tatami. "It was nothing dangerous, was it? This happens all the time, as you already know. You didn't have to come all the way out here at this hour." He chuckled, good-naturedly.  
Yoruichi leapt up to a pillow beside him, never taking her yellow eyes off her.  
"Did you sense anything odd, Inoue?"  
Inoue sat with her hands clasped at her knees, slightly embarrassed.  
"I'm sorry, it's just..." She looked up as the muscular shop-keeper's assistant lowered her tea,"- Thank you, Tessai-san."  
"I felt a need to come over, to check what it was... and..."  
She had that habit.  
Simply letting her words fade off, hoping her listeners would catch on and fill the gaps of her inarticulate thoughts.  
"Oh, my." Urahara sighed, casually observing her. "Could it be, you have trouble sleeping?"  
Inoue lifted her gaze to him. "Well..."  
"Because I have just the thing for that!" The man continued almost blissfully. "The Tohei herbal mix just arrived from Soul Society yesterday. It's a fresh batch, and you'll sleep peacefully for 6 hours I can assure you."  
Yoruichi was studying her more intently now, it seemed.  
But one could never tell with the two old souls.  
"It's... not that." Inoue slowly ventured, considering the more serious one of the two. Yoruichi's black tail flicked back and forth in curiosity, "What is it, Inoue? Tell us." she urged gently in her gruff tone.  
Urahara grew quiet and gave her an easy look, though he became very still. 

"I feel like I was meant to come here. Because I have so many unanswered questions..." Inoue murmured, staring down at her hands. "I feel like I know the spiritual energy, and I'm familiar with it somehow. And I was drawn here... to know..." She suddenly felt very silly as the silence pressed into the room.  
They sat, looking at her, waiting for her to continue.  
What was she doing with these two powerful beings who had centuries of experience and skill over their heads, and how could she request such an audience when she was hardly worth their time. And over a petty feeling like this...-  
"Ah!" She forced her face into her brightest smile, cheeks flaming, "I guess I'm being trivial. I don't really know why I'm here really... I- I'm sor-"  
"Inoue-san..."  
The shield user looked up, meeting Urahara's golden gaze as he studied her beneath his fraying hat. "- Would you like to see someone?"

The ginger-haired girl felt the breath in her throat catch.  
She looked down at Yoruichi, who was already lifting herself off the pillow and stretching her spine like a beam. The cat wordlessly gazed at her before lightly hopping on to the floorboards and maneuvering noiselessly between the divider doors.  
"... Someone...?" She whispered the question.  
"Yes, someone." Urahara casually exhaled the statement and rose to his feet.  
He looked down at her, and his eyebrows pressed together slightly.  
"Someone, perhaps, from Hueco Mundo?"

Orihime's stomach began to knot. 

 

\---


	4. Urahara's Sweets Shop: The Underground Tunnels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Thanks for Kudos and comments as a response to my asking. It's great to know there is a small handful of interest!  
> I appreciate you guys. :}
> 
> \- Second_Best

_She wasn't expecting anything._  
_She wasn't expecting anything._  
_She wasn't expecting Ulquiorra, that was impossible wasn't it?_  
_Impossible._  
_It was someone else. It must be._  
_Wasn't that just as scary, though?_  
_Why did they know she wanted this, only just as she was starting to discover it herself?_  
_Aun, Orihime!_  


Inoue took to slapping her cheeks as discreetly as she could.  
But if there was anything the previous year had pounded into her head over and over again, it was that impossible things were never quite so impossible after all.  
Humans could become Shinigami, Shinigami could become Hollows, Hollows could become Humans. And there was everything in between that.  
Toss in the fact you could resurrect, seal, and combine entities; and you've got no laws in the universe that could spell out Impossible.  


"We've been busy, you see, after Aizen was sent back to Soul Society."  
The sandy-haired researcher turned his gaze up, inhaling sharply through his teeth.  
He came to the center of an empty room and brought his cane down once over a worn-looking plank.  
The sound of a slight splintering crack and the panel dropped, recognizing its Master's spiritual signature and revealing a passage embedded in the floorboards.  
"However, Inoue-san. We weren't expecting _you_ to pick up the energy we've been sending out from the underground passages... Or rather..."  
He tilted his gaze towards her with an easy smile, "We weren't expecting you to feel it was anything out of the ordinary!"  


Yoruichi looked up at her, paws flexing over the edges of the square hole.  
"We don't have to discuss it here. It would be more convenient down below."  


Inoue felt the cat had been studying her far too intently since she'd arrived.  
A small part of her felt conscious of the fact and she swallowed, giving the black creature a tentative smile.  


"Ah, but Yoruichi, that didn't seem to help at all. Suppressing the reishi under all those barriers..." Urahara pondered lightly.  
"Curious." He lowered his head and gave Inoue a wry smile.  
She gave a nervous laugh and squeezed tensely at her neck.  


It wasn't like the ex-Captain was oblivious himself, and judging from Inoue's past experiences, he was just as observant.  
His deceptively carefree air was a frightening façade, and she knew he'd never reveal anything she didn't need to know.  
There must be a reason for this encounter and their decision to invite her anywhere beyond his tea room at all. 

Urahara lifted the wooden door to his basement and gestured with a nod.  
"Go on, Inoue-san."  
Yoruichi hopped down, paving the way, and Orihime gave a tilt of confirmation and wordlessly followed.  
Even if she'd asked at all, Inoue felt they wouldn't be able to explain in full, whatever or whoever it was down here, until they were standing in front of it.  
So she simply pressed her lips in a tight line and followed.  


She could see roots and overgrowth poking through the space and wrapping around the corners of the tunnel as they walked.  
Small torches set against the earthen walls, flickered to life one by one as they walked.  
From behind each shuddering flame, a black butterfly would lift briefly - circling each person before returning to their places on the walls.  


She looked around hesitantly, palms growing moist.  
The earthy smell of the tunnel pressed down to the back of her throat and she felt a dizzying sense that something was quite familiar.  
If she had to put her finger on it: It was like catching a faint smell that brought back certain feelings for no particular reason, or tasting something and pointing out it was like "rubber tires" or something absurd that you'd obviously never tasted before.  
Like a sense of deja vu and finding familiarity in the next moment, but not quite knowing what the next moment was until it was happening.  


It was all of that - and an ironic stirring of sickness and comfort.  
It was confusing, but it was something she knew, almost intimately.  


The two old souls were silent, and all Inoue could hear was the mute clack of Urahara's wooden slippers against soil until she could see a light at the end of the hole and knew because she'd been there before, that it was the mouth to the training grounds. 

"Ah, Inoue-san. This way." Urahara pointed comically at the misshapen wall beside the exit.  
Before she could remark, his cane had pushed into it and the earth split apart neatly, falling away in the shape of boards, revealing another passage built from concrete.  
Yoruichi jumped first and they walked through.  
The older man broadly grinned, gesturing with a sweep of his robe. "This, Inoue-san, is the first time I have ever invited anyone here from Karakura Town!"  
He conducted his finger a few times at the air and kept walking as he chirped. "Now you've seen a classified area... You'd better not tell anyone else about it, okay?"  
"It's a secret." His voice lowered delightedly.  


Of course, there was much more to the shop. How could she have thought things were so simple.  
There could be a hundred different Spirit Doorways all leading to different worlds and dimensions, for all she knew.  
Knowledge was limitless.  
Inoue's head spun briefly, entertaining only a few of those possibilities.  
"Yes, of course Urahara-san," was all she could manage to blurt. 

They travelled through a clean white hallway and emerged at the center of it into a high-ceilinged room.  
The walls were a combination of steel, wood and concrete tile.  
Above their heads, a series of vents and pipes possibly leading out to ducts above the surface, hummed in unison.  


Inoue couldn't suppress the widening of her eyes.  
"This-"  
It was a direct contrast to all the earth and dirt.  
And it was strangely bare in the middle.  


Suddenly, a tinkling of chimes came across her subconscious and Inoue found herself staring at a translucent ribbon fluttering across her face, shimmering bright and blue.  
She looked ahead to see a vast entanglement of ribbons, all starting to materialize, floating and winding along the open space.  
They seemed to lead towards a towering station of monitors with screens at the very end of the room.  


"Urahara-san. What... is this?" She asked, barely a whisper. 

"Ho..." Urahara's murmur broke her reverie.  
One by one, the monitors began to flicker awake.  
Some started to hum with white noise and static, others projected flashes of broken figures and scenery.  
Inoue abruptly turned to Urahara just as he gave the cat below him a meaningful look.  
Yoruichi narrowed her eyes and glanced sideways at the Shun-Shun Rikka's user.  


"Inoue-san..." Urahara was suddenly stonily serious. "I have a feeling, you're the one who can answer that question."

\---

"Something inside you is already changed."  


Ulquiorra stepped away from the glow of the moon cutting through her barred windows.  
She watched his bone helmet lift slightly while he eyed the branches swaying against the bars.  


"What... do you mean?" She whispered.  
She continued to stand in front of her couch, hands clutched tightly to her front, too afraid to move or sit.  
He turned away from her, and walked a leisurely pace around the few bits of furniture.  
Inoue watched his irises listlessly sweep across the room.  
Perhaps, he was thinking of his next words.  
She kept herself in check behind her tightened lips.  
Her hands were now at her sides, but her nails were digging into her palms from the weight his presence had in the room.  


In truth, Ulquiorra was simply stalling.  
And as he set her on edge, he'd taken note of each material item in the girl's room. ****Inspecting their places and ensuring she hadn't taken or manipulated anything as a means of escaping.  
However loyal they swear to be and however much psychological persuasion they'd been placed under - Captives were seldom wise enough to stay put.  
They always, stupidly, attempted an escape.  
He had his means to observe her, and almost doubted this particular girl would do anything at all, but he was never careless with missions or duties handed to him by Aizen-sama.  


"You do not expect that a brief statement declaring servitude to Lord Aizen is sufficient enough a foundation for the rest of the Espada not to lay their hands on you..."  
His slit pupils slowly met her gaze, "Do you?"  


Inoue's gaze flickered and she looked sideways.  
"I... assumed they wouldn't hurt me because this was a directive given by Aizen... -" She caught herself - "Lord Aizen." She quickly amended with a whisper.  
"To some extent, you are correct." He answered.  
"And to some extent, one may circumnavigate the terms." He said, more slowly.  
"The Espada have many talents and abilities used for battle, and a great many ways of hurting those they wish to. They are not beyond finding loopholes around Lord Aizen's orders by doing... other things not entirely classified as 'hurting.'"  
And then Inoue noticed Ulquiorra's eyes lower to just below her collar before slowly returning to rest on her face.  
It wasn't that Ulquiorra had given her a lewd look.  
It was in fact, more devoid of emotion than anything else.  
What bothered her was the implication he seemed to stress on, like a hint he purposely left for her - almost as a warning.  
Why did he feel the need to tell her this?  
It made her stomach tighten. 

"How many ways can one inflict pain on a girl who has the power to undo it?" He continued to watch her.  
"How many times can I break her bones and force her to negate it by threatening her life? To use various numbing poisons while I take her organs and grow her new ones? To force illusions on her, of the one she desires most and then take advantage of her body over and over..."  
His voice had lowered to a faint murmur and Inoue watched, shaken, her knuckles turning white as she stood gripping the hems of her dress.  


"Or perhaps," came the timbre whisper, "I can tell her only the things she wishes to hear..."  


Ulquiorra's pupils dilated slightly, "Convince her I mean no harm. Tell her she is under my watch and protection. Bring her sustenance, converse with her, earn her trust so she will tell me the strengths and weaknesses of her friends..."  
Inoue's breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening.  
"And I will ask myself if it is still hurting her," The Arrancar whispered "-when I simply use her information... to kill them."  


In a burst of anger, Inoue cried out. Flinging her hand at Ulquiorra's face, expecting like the first time, that she would be able to get her point across with a satisfying smack.  
His green eyes didn't flinch - And she froze, her hand already caught in his grip.  
She hadn't even seen him move.  


"I allowed you to hit me once. But I will not allow a second time."  
He narrowed his eyes in warning and released her palm.  
The thought that he had allowed her was terrifying.  
She would have rather imagined she'd taken him by surprise.  
It was a more comforting thought to entertain than playing into something that could have all been planned.  


Inoue tore away and took shaken steps back, hitting the couch and crumpling onto it.  
"You haven't answered my question." She stubbornly quaked.  
"You said something in me is changed. What did you do to me?"  
He straightened and slipped his hands into his pockets.  
The moon reflected off the edges of his green irises as he lowered his gaze, raven strands slipping forgotten on the bridge of his narrow nose. 

"I gave you the bracelet." He murmured. 

\---

Inoue remembered entering the 4th house around the 4th corner of the 4th street from the bus junction where Ulquiorra instructed her to meet him after her 12hour goodbyes and that painful moment with Kurosaki Ichigo.  
The house was a carefully constructed barrier, she realized, and the space felt thick with prickling energy.  


"Come." The Cuatro instructed.  
He was already standing in the center of the house's moulding floorboards.  
Tunnels of light entered every which way from the holes in the roof, but as soon as she stepped within the construct gates, the sounds of the outside world died and there was only deafening silence pressing into her eardrums.  
She remembered crouching through the broken doorframe of the living room and approaching his limber form.  
He raised an arm and pointed to the spot beside him with deliberate slowness.  
Inoue complied by stepping closer.  
He observed her quietly, seeming to look not at her face, but around her.  
Perhaps, he was checking for something he suspected was tampered with.  


Ulquiorra was not quite as tall as she'd first thought, about a head and a half taller at most, and looking extremely agile.  
His physical build was much less intimidating than Ichigo's or Renji's.  
But the manner with which he held himself felt more unsettling and dangerous than the two combined.  
He sat like a snake, conserving its motions, poised to strike.  


"Raise the hand with the bracelet I have given you." He slowly instructed.  
She lifted her wrist, watching the golden band reflect the beams of light.  
"I..." She began, before realizing she didn't know what to say.  
He wordlessly took her arm and lightly touched the bracelet with a pale forefinger and thumb.  
Ulquiorra very precisely rotated it and then whispered a short phrase that sounded like Spanish? Portugese? Or was that, Italian?  
_Ah, it doesn't matter._  
Inoue dismissed the thought.  


She was emotionally exhausted, miserable and dreading each coming second.  
The bracelet began to glow as the Arrancar gently released it, and then it emitted a clinking sound as it cracked, and shattered into dust.  
A gust of Spiritual energy swept the specks up around them and then the air grew thick and almost viscous as the granules fell like a golden shower, illuminating a wall of greenish tint between them.  
The waves ghosted over her, and Inoue shivered as gooseflesh rose up her arms and neck.  
But suddenly it wasn't important - Because Ulquiorra's hand was on her chin.  
"Ah-" Inoue squeezed out a startled objection, her gray eyes suddenly alert.  
His grip tightened and the girl tensed. "I work under strict orders. Remain still."  
Inoue froze, her black-belter instinct to disable him lancing through her.  


The Arrancar said nothing, only tilting her eyes up at an angle where it caught the most light.  
She suppressed any sounds, seeing Ulquiorra's own stare at such close range.  
His eyes were a shade of milky emerald that gradually thickened into dark pine towards the center.  
Inoue watched the vertical pupils stretch briefly, her heart thrashing wild like a trapped rabbit's seeing it dilate.  
The awkwardness became almost intolerable before the man finally removed his hand, satisfied.  


"What...did-" Inoue caught herself clamping her mouth and flinching at her own insolence.  
His stark white form turned away, disinterested, walking towards a corner space.  
And then Ulquiorra had tapped into the air and opened a plank-like formation in space.  


"From this point on," He turned sideways at her, "- You are under my care and I am watching you." 

\---

Inoue's fingers gripped at her own shoulder.  
She sat on the couch, some questions leaving her, and more continually starting to form in her mind.  
Shivers came as she thought about the idea of foreign substances in her body.  
... What would that do to her?  
Inoue's eyes flew open, and the twisting in her stomach intensified coupled with the onsets of what felt like humiliation.  
"Have you been watching me?" She asked, voice cracking.  
Ulquiorra stood very still. And then the Cuatro closed his eyes.  
"Have you been watching me??" Inoue repeatedly stressed, rising with her knees vaguely quaking and impulsively wrapping her arms over herself.  
"Ulquiorra-"  
"I have no interest spying on your private matters." He intercepted, his eyes finally opening.  
"It is not so much an ability to see, but an ability to 'watch over' you to monitor your whereabouts, spiritual pressure and physical condition. If you are worried, I suggest you worry about your situation after this is over..." He finally met her agitated gaze with a calm one.  
"-when I am no longer by your side."  


Inoue closed her mouth and mindlessly slackened into the couch.  
It wasn't so much what he said. Or the deadpan way he had said it.  
But rather, that for a second, Inoue thought she'd seen something familiar cross his face.  
It could have been a great many factors: Perhaps the play of shadows, or her own feelings, maybe she was simply too tired of his blank demeanor that her mind had begun to invent expressions for him.  
But if she wasn't mistaken at all... It was a look she'd seen many times on Kurosaki-kun before he took out his sword and told her to step away.  
Something swelled in her, and she realized she was feeling something else.  


She felt protected.  


She kept her eyes to the floor as Ulquiorra gave his unfazed report.  
Her friends had broken past the outer rims of Los Noches - and were almost one-thirds of the way towards them.  
Their objective was her rescue.  
She felt a lump in her throat and clenched her fingers.  
"Ulquiorra, why do you tell me?" She looked up from a parting of silken orange locks, eyebrows drawn together in confusion trying to understand his intent.  
"You tell me where my friends are and keep me updated on how far they've come. Yes, you withhold the information of ongoing battles, but you know I can sense a victory or a loss. It's the only thing I'm capable of learning on my own."  
Ulquiorra had slipped into a casual stance observing her from across the rug.  
His face remained unchanged, donning that usual expressionless mask.  
A warmth went through Inoue and her eyes softened.  
"I know that you can choose not to tell me. So, I just wanted to say that I'm grateful for you doing this. I know you normally only tell me things I need to know so I appreciate it that you report it. Ulquiorra, you're..." Inoue stopped then, her voice fading into a barely audible whisper.  
She searched his face with hesitant eyes, trying to look beyond the stoic demeanor and trying to gauge if she could continue at all.  
"Do not misunderstand me..."  
The air changed.  
His voice had lowered, losing any form of mildness.  
"- woman." The last word was dangerously quiet, and Inoue's shoulders tensed as she regarded him.  


"I observe you and simply want to know if you are still clinging to your hope."  
Ulquiorra stepped forward then, and the light from the moon made his irises eerily bright, the whites of his eyes unsettlingly stark as they widened.  
"So I can recognize the changes your human face makes when you finally give up."  


Something shattered in her, hearing his blunt heartlessness.  
She sat there, feeling entirely like a discarded rag.  
And in that moment she knew, she'd been wishing for something.  
Wishing that, perhaps, underneath Ulquiorra's cold exterior there was something more.  
Wishing that she could somehow reach into him, find the lonely soul that had barred all sense of feeling, and make him remember.  
She had been hoping that perhaps he was doing her a favor for the sole reason of comforting her.  


Inside, Inoue mirthlessly laughed.  
There was nothing in Ulquiorra, it seemed, that she could mend or bring back.  
Because there was nothing there to begin with.  


Ulquiorra had turned his back to her and soundlessly walked to the door.  
He slipped out of her quarters and Inoue watched the light grow dim, and the creak of the frame settle.  


And then she pushed her face into her palms and whispered her one comforting mantra.  
"Kurosaki-kun..."

\---

.  
.  
.  
.  


The sun shone mildly across the towering buildings of the compound.  
Even without the detection software planted into the department outer walls, the man would have been a bobbing, unwelcomed target.  
The Vice President of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute stood his ground, eyes narrowing at the intruder. And then he gave a troubled expression and crossed his arms. "I have no authorization on your passage." He finally said.

At that statement, the subordinates of the Twelfth Division shuffled forward, forming a barricade around the light-haired man in the green coat, hands on the hilts of their swords. A few shifted nervously with sour faces while others decided to look as menacing as they possibly could under quivering robes.  
Well, now. Most of them didn't look ready for battle at all, noted Urahara.  
It didn't exactly raise his warrior spirits either. 

Akon flicked idly at one of the three horns on his forehead and sighed.  
"Urahara-san, I prefer not to get on your bad side since I honestly have no fighting skills to boast of. So please understand my predicament."  
"Ahhh, Akon-san, was it?" The former Captain raised his eyes in thought, a thumb to his stubbled chin.  
He tilted, giving the sharp-eyed man a repentant smile.  
"I understand your predicament. And you have my apologies for the sudden arrival. But you see, your Captain seems to be quite immersed in his research, what with the admission of Hueco Mundo test subjects into the laboratories..."  
He slumped casually and leaned into his cane with a heavy exhale.  


"Too busy, in fact, to bother answering the two hell butterflies I've sent over, and the spiritual chant I've addressed to him, and-"  
The man suddenly jumped, startling the subordinates into uttering their own cries as they jerked, whipping out a few swords.  
"He even refuses to acknowledge this Gigai!" Urahara poked at his chest humorously.  


"Urahara-san." Akon's eyes flinched. "You're just asking to be exiled permanently from Soul Society."  
"A joke." The sandy-haired man smiled, waving his hand. "I'm still working on creating Gigai assistants that independently carry the dead's Reiatsu."  
Akon's mouth hung unhinged and the disheveled man cut him off with a raised finger.  
"Another joke!" He winked. "Watch your blood pressure, we can't have the top researcher in a bad state-"  


A screeching cry of gravelly protest erupted suddenly from behind the gathered swordsmen.  
"- Out of my way, you useless fools! You're all wandering around like stray chickens, and just what is going on here?!"  


The subordinates parted with sharp bows and shouts of formal greeting as the Captain of the Twelfth Division emerged, unmoved by the welcome, eyes growing wide with flaring irritation.  
"Akon!" He declared, sweeping a bony wrist out - "I said I needed you to monitor the tests in compounds five and six from the control room."  
"Yes, Captain. I apologize for the slight... delay." The three-horned subordinate begrudgingly answered.  
Urahara watched dully as the Captain turned to him. "And you." His painted face twisted as his distractingly long teeth clenched. "What are you doing here?"  
"A discussion is at hand." His former teacher shrugged. "I have a proposal, if you are willing to participate."  
Kurotsuchi Mayuri turned to face him fully, glassy eyes giving a mechanical blink.  
"Oh? How bold of you to ask in front of my Headquarters and men." He quirked.  
Urahara deflated with a cringing smile. "I _did_ ask in every other private way."  
"Excuses, you mean to dishonor me. How can I refuse now." The Captain waved a pale arm, eyes bugging.  
The shopkeeper blinked.  


"Well, I guess this means you'll let me in." 

\--

Mayuri's long purple nails clacked against the organ keys and he opened a case file titled "HuecoMundo[Espada10]" - which spliced across three monitors, and began blinking with passcode bars against blank screens.  
"If you would like to see the research, then I would like to hear about the proposal first. Should I think it's in any way interesting, which I doubt I will, then I'll consider..."  
His yellow sclera shifted sideways, looking Urahara over, "-sharing the information the SRDI has discovered."  
Urahara sighed almost fondly, appearing to enjoy the moment.  
"Stingy as always, Kurotsuchi."  
"I do not have all the time to dawdle." The Captain rolled his eyes with a croak.  
"That is fine. Neither do I." Urahara's thumb brushed along his shadowed jaw and he sent his prodigy a hooded glance.  


"You recall that Soi Fon's Stealth Unit was dispatched along with your research team in Hueco Mundo, yes? Well... We infiltrated Las Noches and have recovered what we suspect could be footage from within the fortress."  
"Surveillance is to be expected in a place like that. What is your point?" A purple nail tapped on the desk.  
"There is a problem with what we've found." Urahara raised his eyebrows slightly.  
"We're unable to view it without using dangerous levels of kidou. I feel we need certain information from the test subjects you've brought back from Hueco Mundo to find another way to decipher it."  
"And why would I be interested in assisting you with trivial matters like that?" The Captain snapped, voice rising.  
"I already have all the test subjects I need. Surveillance footage means little at this point."  


"Well..." Urahara pulled drably on a corner of his hat.  
"If it is what I assume it to be... It's actually a goldmine of information, Kurotsuchi. We can visually observe the different tactics Arrancars have used in battle with the Shinigami. It might also serve as a manual for future battle preparations against the Hollow. We might discover what state the Espada had been in before Aizen used the Hogyoku on them. And perhaps, with more analysis, _you_ can develop new Shinigami technology to find out their common weaknesses and wipe out all existing Hollows in Hueco Mundo, before they even become potentially dangerous to Soul Society."  


Kurotsuchi Mayuri pondered this for a moment with bulging eyes, and then his gaze drifted upwards before narrowing at him.  
"You expect me to believe that _you,_ the man who chooses to submit to his exile instead of appealing it, the man who prefers a boring shop-keeper's life to that of battle between sides, _you_ will not only allow, but _want_ me to meaninglessly wipe out Hollows who haven't even entered Soul Society or the Human Realm?"  


He gave a skeptical grunt.  


"Whatever happened to your stubborn will to 'live and let live,' keeping the peace and balance you so ardently believe in?"  
The Captain's teeth came together in a broad, sarcastic grin.  
"Do you take me for a fool? You are not being honest with me."  


Urahara kept his face low.  
And then he tilted his hat with a finger, gazing up at the steel-plated ceiling.  
"You truly are a wonderfully-gifted observer, Kurotsuchi." He mused.  
The Captain grunted, vainly trying to brush off the flattery without seeming too happy.  
"It _is_ what you've left for me to do. I observe. And I am a genius at it."  


"Kurotsuchi..."  


The Captain's monochrome face turned sideways in response, yellow eyes wide and expectant.  


"The truth is, I would simply like to know how Aizen created his army. And the answer could be in the surveillance footage."  
The shop-keeper sighed.  
"I suspect, both I and the Gotei 13 wishes to prevent this incident from happening again. And if we can't destroy the fused Hogyoku and Aizen, then the only thing left to do is ensure there is no means for it to work the way it did. To make sure history doesn't repeat itself."  
He eyed the Captain almost morosely.  


"Kurotsuchi... We will not always have a Kurosaki Ichigo."  


"Feh!" Mayuri flinched in disgust.  
"You and your eternal quest for worldly and otherworldly peace. How boring. The most boring test subject I could possibly analyze."  
He pointed at the man's face. "You. Absolutely boring."  


Urahara pressed a palm to his hair and jostled it. "My apologies." He gave a crinkling smile.  


They sat in silence amidst the beeping monitors.  
"So?" The taller man demanded shrilly, plucking them out of the reverie.  
"What information do you need? Quickly, before I change my mind."  
"Ah, you can start by telling me what you know about 'Synchronized Recognition.'" Urahara disclosed.  
"'Synchronized Recognition.' A trait particularly used by the 9th Espada - Aaroniero Arruruerie. From what we have recovered, he uses a form of telepathic data-recording, to communicate to fellow Espada his experience as he is witnessing it. That is, indeed, a good place to start."  
The Captain pushed away from the keyboards in thought, eyes staring unflinchingly at a corner of the screen.  
"An interesting subject, yes. Far more interesting than you."

Urahara's gaze flattened as the Captain mechanically began opening information windows on the Espada.  
"... My apologies" 

\---

That conversation with the 12th Captain had ended three days ago.  


Now, he was standing at the entrance of his own room witnessing this strange occurrence revolving around Inoue Orihime.  
Urahara's eyes widened a fraction as the ginger-haired girl stepped forward, eyes completely fixated on the glowing tangles in front of her.  
"Is this... what you wanted to show me, Urahara-san?" She distractedly asked.  
"Hm. To be completely honest, not at all." He subdued the surprise in his voice, though his senses had begun to tingle on full alert.  
His cat-formed companion bristled immediately in attention, as well.  
"Kisuke." Yoruichi cautioned laying low to the ground, poised. 

Only a few days ago, Yoruichi found herself skimming along the sands of Hueco Mundo with Soi Fon and her Stealth Unit.  


The Second Captain had requested her assistance, head down and embarrassed, stating it was for extra precautions and that the First Captain had approved of the decision if she chose to agree.  
Of course Yoruichi had said yes.  
It was a welcome mission and a chance for her to stretch her legs after a few uneventful Human World days.  
If the Research Department of the Twelfth Division was responsible for analyzing carnage, the Second Division's Stealth Unit was assigned the job of reconnaissance and logistic inspection.  
It was in one of the rooms of a particular tower that they discovered the line of surveillance monitors along with a steel-encased box that held a various number of green orbs pulsing with the flow of spirit particles.  
Everything else, it seems had been wiped out or erased somehow.  


The orbs indeed contained footage, Urahara discovered shortly thereafter.  
He was breathing hard on the floor of his research room after the 15th incantation he tried.  
It had worked for a moment and he successfully recorded a few short clips of areas, and the residents of Las Noches.  


Aizen had advanced his research to the extent of using materials from Hueco Mundo in order to more easily create a form of communication with his Hollow subordinates.  
This information was alarming.  
The ex-Captain had continued night after night to run different tests on the items after ensuring he had constructed an impenetrable barrier against the outside Human World.  
But it hadn't stopped Inoue Orihime from sensing it.  
Not even the Quincy, who was especially receptive, had caught it. 

How did this girl possess the consciousness to sense the orbs from Hueco Mundo?  


The man watched Inoue Orihime reach out.  
The bluish ribbons he recognized now as spirit threads - similar to the ones Shinigami and Humans projected - immediately responded, gliding towards her outstretched hand.  
They wove along her skin, settling gently over the surface of her forearms and the tips of her fingers.  
And then the monitors had all flickered to life with startling, crisp quality, unaided.  
Without any high-level incantation...  
How had she managed to unlock the information in them?  
Urahara was stunned, forgetting all about the short clips he'd previously decided to show her.  


_The spirit threads lying dormant in the orbs are naturally drawn to her._  
He had decided a light-hearted talk with the girl after showing her some footage would lead her to discuss her captivity and whatever she learned of the Arrancar she'd come in contact with...  
But this was more than he had anticipated.  
Inoue Orihime was the key to unlocking all the Las Noches' Surveillance footage they had obtained.  


Inoue stood there, eyes flitting from one monitor to the next as images flashed across the screen.  
She saw Abarai Renji swiping Zabimaru at a roaring Sand Hollow, turned her gaze to another monitor just as Kuchiki Rukia cried out, plunging her blade through the head of an Espada.  
There were images of corridors and the Adjuchas she had grown familiar with.  
A flash of Loly and Menoly making their way down the corridor towards the marbled staircase.  
Nnoitra flexing his scythe on level 1 Hollows at the training grounds.  
Yammy grabbing at the tail of a dog-like creature, laughing as it sharply yelped.  


Inoue's eyes continued to roam, resting from one monitor to the next.  
And then her breath snagged, and every fiber of her tensed as she settled on a monitor to the upper right corner of the wall.  
She recognized his form immediately.  


"Kurosaki-kun." She whispered.  


His hardened stare seemed to penetrate the screen, eyes directly at her.  
And then he lifted his Zangetsu, the inky blade reflecting sheer light as he spoke directly at the screen.  
"... So, you consider me an equal now."  
There was a silence, and then the view had oddly tilted upwards, and then slowly moved sideways as if the recording device was mounted on the person taking it.  
Inoue felt a sense of numbness wash over her as she saw what came next, unable to look away.  


It was her.  


She was staring at footage of herself, a hand balled to her chest, taking shallow agitated breaths.  
The view then lowered to the rubble and she caught a glimpse of the familiar black footwear with white bindings churning with green wisps of spiritual pressure.  
His pale hand came into view, and it seemed to focus on those slim fingers wrapping around the glowing mint-green katana hilt.  
The grip settled with finality, pressing down on the sword before neatly unfastening it, slipping it almost delicately from its sheath.  


"Nn-" Inoue's knees locked and she felt a sudden force of heaviness around her body.  
Her companions shot her alert looks.  


"At the very least..."  
The girl's chest unexpectedly tightened at the Cuatro Espada's familiar voice, now more directly in her mind than in the room.  
"I consider you somebody I have to destroy."  
She watched the monitor focus with crystal quality on Kurosaki-kun's smirking face and shut her eyes, the image vividly burned into the backs of her eyelids.  
She felt like the room was vibrating, humming with a low rumble.  
But the nagging sense of panic quickly left as Yoruichi's voice gruffly broke into her thoughts.  
"We're seeing it through that Espada's eyes. This is a different set of footage, Kisuke."  


Urahara's eyebrows clashed, taking on a more shadowed seriousness.  


"Ul-... quiorra..."  
The two turned quickly to the shield-user as she whispered the name.

"I will spare this woman..." Ulquiorra said under his breath.  
He was looking straight at her. "- my orders do not entail killing her."  
She raised her head at him.  
The morose conflict and weight in her eyes seemed to come straight through the screen.  


The monitor flickered briefly, like something had disrupted the feed.  


_... Don't move an inch. Stay this way... for me..._ The soft whisper ghosted along her consciousness.  
_...- Woman._  


And then Inoue began to feel strange as a cold thickness coursed up her arm where the spirit threads had attached.  
A pressure started to press into her skull, squeezing out the sounds from around her.  
She watched that pale hand raise Murcielago, the light filtering in from the gaping hole of the palace wall, illuminating the edge of its blade.  
It lanced sharply over the surface and glimmered over that pointed tip, and then the whole expanse of steel was glowing, brighter... and brighter...  


She looked down, surprisingly calm, and noticed how her hand seemed almost displaced, as if it wasn't hers.  
She blinked slowly, confused as the bluish streaks burst with vivid brightness and began to thrash like furious flames.  


_Enclose, Murcielago._ The low, fluid tone spoke the command to awaken his sword.  


And then she felt something shoot through her like a rapid jerk of electric shock.  
Inoue reflexively gasped, her body clenching and then sharply pitching forward.  
And suddenly Urahara's arm was around her waist, breaking the fall.  
"Inoue-san!" He called out, surprised. And then he'd began to mumble something under his breath and she felt the thickness abating somehow, withdrawing.  


The girl opened her mouth to reply and found she couldn't speak.  
Everything started to go dark and her head dropped, swaying.  
The last thing she glimpsed was Yoruichi's dark human form and a tanned arm firmly circling her shoulders.  
She felt a gentle shake and heard her name frantically being whispered.  
She was sinking...  
Sinking and tired.  
And then, there was nothing. 

"Sun of West. Waves of Ice. The Air carries the Ashes. Fist of the Lost One. Molten Gold of Tengu. Jigoku descend. Redemption and Negation of elements, Deflecting Rite."  
Urahara extended his arm, ejecting the incantation.  
Shards of bright white flew towards the girl, each one splicing and boomeranging as they rapidly severed the spiritual threads.  
And then Inoue fell unrestrained into Yoruichi's arms.  


"She's unconscious, and her Reiatsu has been drained. But she's okay."  
The purple-haired woman reported, carefully eyeing the younger girl and removing her fingers from the pulse over her throat.  


_"What is going on..."_  


The man straightened, watching the monitors flicker and blacken one by one as the threads dissipated.  
For a moment there was nothing but weighty silence.  
The exiled man and his female companion were motionless, save for their shallow breaths.  
And then Urahara rose, eyes narrowed in grim thought.  


There was only one explanation he could think of.  
Something from Hueco Mundo had affected Inoue Orihime physically.  
Whatever it was, its effects were still with her.  
And whatever it was... had something to do with that Espada and his special abilities.

\---


	5. The Hallways of Las Noches: Espada Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Bonus Chapter of sorts, and fluff (as much as I can manage to make Ulquiorra fluff anyway.) Who doesn't enjoy "fleshing out" the story like this! :D

The rectangular board was thick.  
Inoue watched the purple-skinned Adjuchas approach her with it. And then the creature slid the board over her hands and locked it tightly with a sharp tug.  
A collar was snapped in place over her neck and roughly jostled.  
Another two rings were fastened over her ankles and repeatedly tugged on.  
And then the Adjuchas has pulled away with a rattling breath, slithering backwards.  
"The human is ready." It hissed, eyeing its master at the doorway before sliding away from the frame and lowering with a bow.  
She bit down on her inner cheek and focused on the tiles as the pale Arrancar wordlessly approached.  
His feet came to a soundless stop in front of her, Hakama pants swaying.  
Inoue almost jumped when his fingers were suddenly at the cold, gold ring around her neck, pressing it gently and injecting it with his Spiritual imprint.  
A translucent green chain bloomed from his fingers, clinking together as the links joined, cascading down her shoulder and connecting to the board before hitting the floor with tinkling and attaching to her ankles. 

He didn't speak. And Inoue began to think Ulquiorra liked to use the silence as a form of emotional pressure.  
The awkwardness of the moment was tempting her to act.  
She chastised herself by biting even harder into her cheek and looking up expectantly, meeting with his subdued slit-pupil stare.  
He moved his gaze up to her temples. "You will not be needing those during the walk. They are to be taken off."

"I see." Inoue quietly said. And she reached up clumsily with both hands for one side of her head.  
His fingers were on the cuff board before she could even begin to touch one hairpin.  
"I shall do this for you." He stated.  
"And I will not permit you to touch them while your door is wide open and the hallways are susceptible. Your accessories will remain with me for the time being, under a strong binding rite."  
Her throat tightened slightly as his fingers rose towards the corners of her eyes.  
"If you, in any way, move or speak, I will not act kindly."  
His touch was surprisingly light and the Cuatro unfastened them with deft fingers.  
"I know how your power works."  


Her hair slipped, unsuppressed over her cheeks.  
She stayed stock-still, only subtly breathing.  


Ulquiorra slipped the hairclips into one pocket and considered her motionlessly.  
"Good." He said after some silence, surprising her as he stepped away.  
She felt her morale rising and she relaxed slightly with a slow breath.  
"Where are we going?" She ventured meekly, peeking at him from under her dark eyelashes.  
The Cuatro didn't bother sending her a glance.  
"I feel no need to answer that question. Walk with me." Came the barren murmur as he started to turn around.  
"It's just... it makes me feel better to know things." Inoue reasoned gently, trying to catch his eye.  
"That's the only reason I-"  
The girl abruptly stopped talking because his fingers had pressed to her back.  


They barely touched her shoulder blade and she had no reason to be so profoundly afraid all of a sudden.  
But a spike of Spiritual Energy shot out from his pale appendages, faster than electricity.  
The intangible squeeze it exerted made Inoue's breath lodge, and she gave a choked gasp, recoiling from that touch.  
Her heart jumped into a maddening traipse as he gave her a stare that instinctively forced her to stop questioning him.  


She eyed him fearfully.  
"Walk." He repeated, silent threat lacing his tone.  


Inoue didn't know why her muscles were suddenly quaking, or why her legs felt like they had turned to rubber.  
Something in that brief burst of power had paralyzed her nerves for a mere fraction of a second, and her brain had stalled until it was finally able to grasp what it fumbled for - the idea of sheer terror.  
She forced her body still and took a long, deep breath because the Arrancar had stepped away, confident without looking that she would follow.  
As if he held, in his hands, the very chains that hung on her.  


\--- \- \- 

The walk was not a short one, Inoue realized.  


After more than fifteen minutes, the air around them seemed to ease, and the girl quickly began to take in the sheer immensity of this otherwordly prison.  
The color had been drained off of everything that composed the structure, only leaving whites, blacks and all the shades of gray that it could possibly produce.  
Every now and then, she would glimpse a startling shade of something different: Other creatures walking along the hall.  
And the shield user had all the time from the point she'd spotted them far-away, until they were finally close enough to touch, to curiously study them.  
They bore different colored uniforms, but they were never white like Ulquiorra's.  
All of them gave gracious bows, and none of them looked either her or her Captor in the eye or spoke a single word.  
All her tight smiles went unnoticed until she merely lowered her head in thought, deciphering the different but repetitive designs of their outfits.  


"Ulquiorra?" She whispered, sending his pale profile a quick glance.  
"Please don't get me wrong... but, how long does it usually take to get to wherever we're going? Does it usually take time to travel to important places?"  


"There are specific areas within the hallways that may be accessed... in order to adjust the distance and time of one's travel." Ulquiorra said, beside her.  
"The key areas closest to us are currently unavailable for use due to security limitations. This trip will not take more than an hour."  
If his voice weren't so low and quiet, it most likely would have echoed off the walls, seeing as they were so bare.  
The hallway didn't hold a single piece of furniture or color.  


The architecture changed slightly in the next few minutes, as if the creator had decided to reward such a long stroll with a taste of grandeur in the form of endless pillars and a towering ceiling.  
Each vertical pole seemed completely identical to the next until they rounded the corner into an open area leading to a marble bridgeway.  
A familiar, comforting glow of tawny yellow washed over the floors until they stepped on to the landing and were greeted by a startlingly bright, warm morning sky over a vast stretch of structured domes and cylinders.  
Inoue's eyes widened, seeing daylight only for the second time since her stay.  


"The sun..." She whispered with a touch of a glimmer in her eyes.  
She marvelled at the vivid blue stretch of sky as they walked, her wide stare drinking in the vibrant color she'd sorely missed.  
Even the air seemed to smell different here.  
"The ceiling." Ulquiorra corrected softly, looking out into the view.  
"It is not real."  
When he didn't expound on the matter, she decided on one of her many questions.  
"Not real... How do you mean...." Inoue turned to look at him.  
But her voice trailed off, distracted by the way the stark brightness around them entered his marble stare.  
The sun took to illuminating all the facets of his strangely beautiful irises, providing her with a glimpse of emerald trenches under those glassy domes encasing his expanded pupils.  
As they continued to walk, a shade fell, muting the harshness.  
It crammed the vast blue of the sky, and even the structures around them, into that corneal glaze, making his eyes fascinatingly bright and deep.  
They were beautiful, she realized, unable to look away.  


She finally averted her gaze when those attentive pupils slid to her with all their caustic stoniness.  
"An artificial display made to mimic Soul Society's day and night. The largest indoor illusion of Las Noches. But that is all it is..."  
His voice lowered matter-of-factly. "An illusion." 

Her eyes dimmed, even as she raised her head and tried to soak in the warmth for all its worth.  
"Las Noches is divided into compounds. The outermost entrance, as you know, your friends have already carelessly destroyed." There was a hint of disdain in Ulquiorra's tone.  
"Within a few hundred kilometers lies the second base of operations: Sectors, tunnels and the Espada Towers. Each specific area provides housing to the different levels of Hollows that reside in it." His eyes briefy acknowledged her face. "Your Quarters are situated in the grand hallway adjoining the Cuatro and Quinto Tower...-"  


He was actually quite a talker, she realized - if it were on his own terms.  
She hastened to absorb it with a twist of mouth.  


...What are 'Cuatro' and 'Quinto' anyway?  


Her face wrinkled slightly, trying to discern the terms.  
_Cuatro -_  
_...Quadro..._  
_Was it Italian?_  
_Quad... Four corners... Four? Four. Maybe, that's it..._ She gave a short internal nod.  
_Quinto..._  
_Quintuplets_  
_\- was that six.. or... five......... That would make more sense because 5 would come after 4....-_  
Her index finger danced in thought discreetly.  


"Is this clear?" His voice, slightly raised, brought her back.

Inoue blinked rapidly.  
His eyes narrowed, sending her hand a quick glare, and she drew back, a little fearful.  
"...Ah- E-.. Well..!" Inoue lowered her gaze, blinking and consciously pushing her hands together to her front.  
"It's a little overwhelming, but I'm sure I can manage... somehow." She quietly finished with a tight smile.  
He gave her a look.  
And he took his time doing so until Inoue felt slightly uncomfortable from those slit-pupils seemingly piercing into her to analyze every tick and flinch of bodily behavior.  
Inoue tried to distract herself, looking further away to study whatever artistic craftsmanship had gone into every identical pillar.  
And as soon as the Espada beside her had let enough of an awkward moment pass, he took a step forward and they continued along until the sun was left behind them, replaced by another cold ceiling.  


She released a slow breath, feeling a chill prickle at her frayed nerves with the beginnings of a cold sweat.  
His presence and whatever she felt of that tightly-restrained, but infinitely ominous power was really beginning to affect her the more she was exposed to it.  
Perhaps she would adjust after some more time? Hopefully.  
Her optimism sent her gut a poke and she relaxed in its comfort somewhat.  


"Currently, we are traversing the hallway of the Primera Tower..." He continued in fluid low narration, hands loosely in his pockets.  
She gave a brief sound of acknowledgement, but otherwise chose to remain quiet.  
And then her curiosity got the best of her again, and Inoue found herself studying the raven strands falling over his chin and his delicate profile, looking for any signs of expression as he talked...  
Apart from being drawn to his ethereal appearance, she found nothing but a void shell.  


"- such Hollows walking the hallways. Pay them no mind. They are simply servants of the Arrancar. At certain times, my duties of maintaining areas of Las Noches assign me to stations that are far from your chambers. It is important that you know precisely where you are, should any of the other Espada or members of their Fraccion be sent to retrieve you and escort you. Should you be in any form of trouble - and I will know it - you must simply stay put and wait for my arri-"  


"Ohhhhhh? What's this?"  


Ulquiorra stopped mid-sentence, giving the corner of the stairway a measured look.  
Inoue turned her head, perking.  


A slim woman with lime-green hair and a skull helmet - only a girl really - wearing an almost indecent vest barely covering her chest stood with a hand to her waist on the steps.  
She leapt, swinging playfully around a pillar before landing a few feet away.  
Her eyebrow rose in sly consideration.  
Inoue curiously took in the Hollow helmet over her silken strands.  
It was rounded with two small, curled horns and a fringe of bone forming over her forehead.  
A permanent image of a red flame was pressed over the bony portion covering one eye.  
It carved out a socket where the eye should have been, leaving it barren and disturbingly empty.  
Her other eye seemed to make up for any expression the other could have projected.  
It shone brightly purple with a keen cheekiness as it widened.  


"Our new guest! Look, Starrk." She thoroughly studied the ginger-haired captive.  
"And in chains too..."  
Her one magenta iris narrowed in exaggerated pity, "-poor little girl." She jested.  


Inoue almost curled in at the sharp mockery.  
"Lilynette..." A tall man stepped up behind her with a sigh. "Leave Ulquiorra alone."  
"Eh, but I was referring to _her_!"  
Starrk gave Ulquiorra a sullen gaze, dismissing anything else.  
"You're bringing her quite close to our Quarters." He started in a low voice. "I can't say you won't bump into some... trouble."  
"Ouch!"  
Lilynette scooted sideways, rubbing at her rib. "What was that for!"  
Inoue realized the man had punched her side, roughly.  
Only she hadn't even caught the movement because of how fast it had been.  
_... Was this another Espada?_

"I move under Lord Aizen's orders, Primera." Ulquiorra answered.  
"You will have to excuse the intrusion. Ichimaru Gin and Tosen Kaname are currently unavailable and the hallways cannot be adjusted."  
Inoue instinctively moved behind the Cuatro, keeping her hands low and her face meekly tilted.  
"Have a name, Human?" Lilynette's purple eye moved up and down, inspecting her and completely disregarding her escort.  
"Orihime..." She whispered, blinking slowly. "Inoue Orihime."  
"I-no-ue-chan." The Arrancar playfully sing-songed.  
And then her mask lowered and she'd pulled a small dagger from the back of her tight panties.  
"I should carve the letters into her back! That will be fun, right Starrk?"  
Inoue's eyes widened.  


"I advise you not to engage the girl." Ulquiorra cautioned calmly, slit-pupils slowly meeting her gleeful eyes.  
"But that's not _exactly_ Lord Aizen's orders, is it?" She grinned.  
"It's more like yours, Ulquiorra!" The girl declared, pointing.  
"Hn..." Her purple gaze narrowed dangerously.  
"You should remember your place in the Espada, don't you think? I don't take orders from the fourth in rank." 

The Cuatro stood for a moment, eyeing her.  
And then he dismissed to engage, signalling a glance at Inoue for her to follow.  
He ignored the threatening glare Lilynette was sending him, and continued walking past the Primera with Inoue ducking in tow.  
"Don't say I didn't warn you." The man with the bonejaw necklace despondently called out.  
And then he started walking away in the opposite direction.  


"Lilynette." He called, half-heartedly.  


"Bahhhh..."  
There was a pause.  
"Noooope! We're playing a game!"  


And then Inoue saw a flash move past her, faster than her eyes could catch.  
She felt a quick swipe over her spine, and the ripping of fabric.  


"Tag!" Lilynette was mid-flip in the air as she shouted.  
The Arrancar landed behind the stunned captive, erupting into a laugh.  
And then her fingers were shooting out - "You're I-!"  
A swift kick slammed into Lilynette's skull helmet. Right beside that hollowed eye.  


The girl shot backwards with a choked grunt. Flying across the long hallway, before hitting the marbled floors in a roll and skid of skin.  
She twisted in reaction, managing to push a leg out to catch herself, before finally grinding into a halt.  


"Ow!!!" She roared, lifting her head with a menacing glare.  
Her eyes narrowed vehemently. "How dare you. Fourth."  
Several meters away across the hall, Ulquiorra lowered his leg.  
His green eyes dropped sideways to the shield-user, assessing her condition.  


Inoue teetered briefly and then crumpled against the wall, visibly shaken.  
Her eyes had widened momentarily, though she told herself not to make any sudden moves.  
She didn't know at all how these Hollows responded to anything.  
In a case like this, it was best to steer clear and stay low.  


"I'm okay." She tightly managed, sending Ulquiorra a hesitant look.  
She could feel it now, a stinging pain that slightly itched and burned just between her shoulder blades and down her back.  


He looked at her a moment longer, and then that green stare broke away, taking in the slashed back of her dress.  
The garment had split open, and a shallow cut ran cleanly down her exposed skin.  
Blood had started to bead from certain places.  
Inoue suppressed the urge to wince because his eyes landed back on her.  
She opened her mouth to reassure him that it was nothing, but those slit-pupils quickly sharpened, flicking sideways.  
He suddenly pushed up in a blur of white, deftly blocking a blow from the smaller assailant.  
Lilynette ground down with all her weight on the dagger, releasing a throaty roar.  
Ulquiorra's face was one of neutral distaste, slowly eyeing her blade clattering against his bare wrist.  
"You're just asking for it, Fourth. Kicking a fellow Espada like that! You're nothing but a smug, pompous-!" Lilynette stopped then.  
Her eyes widened, because the Cuatro's forefinger was now lingering over the space between her eye and bone-patch. 

"Lilynette!" 

Inoue suppressed a gasp at the reverberation of the Primera Espada's gruffly raised tone.  
The smaller girl flinched.  
The man had turned back around, ominous licks of spiritual brunt bleeding into his shoulders and uniform.  
He gave her a fixed stare, much more alert than his earlier disenchanted one.  
There was something about the abrupt change in his presence that robbed Inoue of her bodily warmth.  
And she realized it wasn't really terror she was feeling. No.  
That terror was only a reaction to something darker and heavier as it began to drag along her chest - The feeling of complete loneliness.  


Lilynette straightened wordlessly. She gave Ulquiorra a well-restrained vehemence before snorting.  
And then just as easily that look disappeared, settling into a smirk.  
"Bo-ring."  


She leapt away, landing several meters behind them.  


"You'd better watch her carefully, Fourth." Her eyes continued to penetrate the Cuatro.  
"You never know when I wanna start knocking on her door to invite her to play."  
Her lips stretched wide with a display of prominent canines.  


Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, saying nothing and only moving slightly to block his captive from the Primera's view.  
Inoue's hair fell across one cheek as she peered out hesitantly with furrowed eyebrows.

The small Primera's girl looked them over with a shadow of distaste and provocation.  
"Tche!" She remarked, mouth twisting maddeningly.  
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with her!" Came the loud declaration with a jab of a finger.  
The girl broke into a mocking laugh, turning around and skipping towards her irritated partner.  


Her hands swayed with an exaggerated sashay of slender hips.  
"He's in love, he's in love, Ulquio-hime loooove!" She sing-songed teasingly.  


"Stop, or I'll seal you in your gun form for a month... Talking about things you don't know." The taller man mumbled, continuing their walk.  
She pouted, chasing after his legs.  
"Booooo, Starrk! You're really no fun. Besides, you can't do that, you don't know how!"

Inoue ducked her head.  
And then she felt her face growing hot and knew her cheeks were reddening.  
The teasing felt surreal in this humourless fortress, almost laughable how much it contrasted with her grim situation.  
No matter, Inoue thought glumly.  
The sting of the cut lanced into her as she straightened, and she berated herself knowing there was no reason to be affected by it.  
There were more important things, it seemed.  
Like keeping to one's boundaries and rank.  
She was starting to learn a little more about her Espada caretaker.  
Somehow, it was strangely comforting to know he wasn't completely revered... and familiar.  
He had a rank, and as much as he was respected by some, he also dealt with the dislike of others.  
It wasn't very different from anyone else's situation.  


_... Is it also because he fought for you?_  
_Inoue... You're silly for even thinking it._  
It was his job after all. Wasn't it?  


She looked up at the Arrancar beside her.  
"Thank you..." She started to say.  


But Ulquiorra was not looking at her.  
His hard glare was focused ahead, following the disappearing forms of the Primera Espadas.  
"There is a change of plans." He drawled, almost appearing annoyed about the disrupted schedule.  
Inoue glanced at him.  
Well, she could certainly see him as the type to want full control over the situation.  
Before it could register, Ulquiorra had closed his fingers around her forearm and that cuffboard, slowly pulling her behind him with a clink of chains.  
"I did not expect such an outright defiance from her." He quietly remarked.  
"And Szayel Apporo Granz should not see you with a torn dress."  


Inoue quirked her mouth.  
Zaielapo-who?  


Ulquiorra's fingers tightened imperceptibly around her sleeve as if to remind her to stay in line, before releasing her.  
So far, this Arrancar seemed to blatantly disregard breaching personal space.  
It had taken her friends at least a year before they touched her so dismally.  
Inoue felt a strange mix of fear and dependence stir as he resumed his easy, fluid walk. And after lingering a moment, she obediently ghosted from behind.  
"Ulquiorra... y-... you're not in trouble for kicking her, are you?" She whispered, gray eyes searching the back of his coat with concern.  
It was greeted with ironically cold silence compared to the earlier gesture.  


The green-eyed Arrancar and Inoue continued down the hall until the ceilings began to lower.  
"We are making a detour." He informed her after some moments of walking.  
Inoue's gaze inspected the dead-end in front of them even as the Arrancar continued forward.  
She paused for a moment, confused, and then quickly hastened to tail him.  


The Cuatro finally fell to a stop over the wall.  
Upon closer inspection, Inoue realized there was a hidden rectangular indent in the marble only noticeable when looked for.  
It blended in with the rest of the archways if not for the shape and vertical gap between it that reminded Inoue of elevator doors.  
Ulquiorra raised an arm beside the vertical groove and pressed his palm to an engraved carving of a circle within a multi-faceted gem.  
She almost leapt away when she felt a pulse of Reiatsu from him, eyeing a wisp of green from his pale hand.  
It snaked over the carving, with a glow.  


"To where?" Inoue couldn't help asking, in a higher tone.  
Again, no answer.  


There was a discreet tri-tone beep and the doors opened.  
Ulquiorra walked into the enclosure with a slight curl of his fingers, expecting her to follow.  
They stepped in to a steel box and the doors slid closed with a heavy, rolling thump.  
It really was an elevator, Inoue realized, gray eyes falling over the familiar box-like corners and handrails.  
The girl stepped sideways curiously, whipping her head to peek over the white-uniformed shoulder, searching for the usual buttons or numbers beside the doors.  
She found none.  
Her eyes squinted, lips pushing sideways.  
Strange.  


"Spiritual Signature Identified."  
Inoue almost jumped when a deadpan female voice broke out from her left.  


"Cuatro Espada: Ulquiorra Cifer. Access Destination: Cuatro Quarters." It continued.  
" Confirm Destination?"  
The shield user turned with wide eyes perusing the source, before finally spotting the holes of a speaker on one wall.  
She quickly lowered frozen arms that had risen in instinctive defense and looked back at him, cuffboard jingling.  


"Confirm." Came the quiet voice from beside her as he sent her a void stare, answering her earlier question.  
_Ulquiorra's Quarters?_ She hesitated.  


For a moment, she felt nothing standing there.  
And then she felt a strong tickling plummet in her gut as the elevator suddenly dropped at a startling speed.  
Inoue's mouth tightened, holding back a squeeze of sound and she instinctively braced her jellying knees.  
She did vaguely remember pillars forming around the Towers...  
Perhaps the Espada's Quarters were situated on the lower floors.  
The elevator, like a sentient being began to slow to a neutral glide more befitting her stomach's tastes and Inoue expelled a breath.  


"Tunnel 4. Presence Detected: Sexta Espada: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Modify Passage?"  
"Modify." Ulquiorra's flat tone ordered.  
"That fool is trying to get to you."  
Inoue blinked, "Eh?"  
"Modifying Floorplan." The disembodied voice in the elevator answered.  


The elevator continued down. 

They emerged after a moment into another large hallway, the ride being fairly quick after all.  
Though Inoue could tell, because of the slight pressure in her ears, that it had been a long drop.  


As they continued, the sophisticated marble finish on the walls began to cut away into more medieval stone boulders.  
The edifice squeezed out the passage of light and lamps started appearing in certain corners to compensate the deprivation, hanging low from suspended chains of polished gold.  
Inoue looked around distractedly, until they entered a single gaping doorway at the end of the hall.  
The two emerged into a wide, circular landing with walls built from speckled granite and pillars of pale limestone.  
The ceilings here rose suddenly to a dizzying height, and at the very top hung a breathtaking chandelier, robust from the center with dozens of blazing orb-like bulbs.  
Wide staircases flanking two opposite walls led up to a rounded second floor that housed several furnished doors made of wood and steel.  


Inoue stared at the immensity, mouth slightly coming apart.  


"You will need to get changed." He murmured, coming to a slow stop and breaking her from her shocked reverie.  
She jerked her head back down and straightened attentively.  
The Cuatro slowly looked over his shoulder at her before closing his eyes and sharply making a left into a more narrow passage.  
"Until I map a report about this incident, it is unsafe for you to return to your chamber to retrieve your dresses. You will take the spare one from my Quarters."

Inoue blinked.  
"I... will-... Alright." She answered distractedly, forehead furrowing.  


\---


	6. Espada Quarters: Ulquiorra's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh, Ulquiorra. If I had a chisel, it would take forever breaking into your tough exterior.  
> Such a difficult character to strap a heart (hard?) on to!  
> AHA. aha. aha. 
> 
> Thank you for the Kudos and comments. :) It's definitely not much at all compared to other writer's works, but I am happy for the support.  
> Thank you!
> 
> \- Second_Best
> 
> Notes: Ulquiorra's birth and history are taken from the Bleach Official Character book called "Unmasked."

"Ulquiorra-sama." The throaty gurgle came from the top of the stairway.  


"You come bringing the human captive. Have we failed to supply something important for it-"  
"Her." Ulquiorra corrected, giving the Adjuchas henchman a glance.  
With a swipe of his finger, the board holding her hands and the chains restraining her fell away.  
Inoue straightened, one hand unconsciously wringing at her other wrist.  
"Note the proper way to address a human." The Arrancar continued.  
"And fetch me one of her spare garments, this one is already lost."  
"Yes, Ulquiorra-sama." The Adjuchas took a step back and lumbered towards one of the rooms.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl send him a slightly curious glance.  
"Ulquiorra-sama." She repeated significantly, "It's nice of you to teach him."  
"Ulquiorra." He said. So quietly, it was nothing but a faint breath.  
"There is no need for titles. You are not serving me. Only Lord Aizen."  
Something about how it almost sounded like a casual sigh, and the small exchange of almost casual conversation, made Inoue's mood just a bit better.  
She found herself smiling slightly.  


Maybe, Ulquiorra did loosen up every now and then.  
She found herself wondering if it had something to do with him being in his personal chambers.  
Not exactly the most comfortable looking place in the fortress.  
The deprivation of natural light from the moon replaced by flickering candles and shadows on dark-colored walls did little to ease her.  
"Is it always so dark in your quarters?" The girl suddenly asked.  
Ulquiorra moved away and Inoue gave up.  
She concluded silently that he would ignore it, as always.  


"The Adjuchas who serve me prefer the dark."  
His voice sounded so meek, it was almost a lull if she didn't feel all that suppressed power surrounding his immediate personal space.

She turned towards him, feeling the heaviness in her ease at his proactive response.  
Her eyes flickered, eyebrows lifting with unease.  
"But what about you...? How can you see properly?" She asked again, tailing his movements.  
The Arrancar's bone helmet rose slightly.  
"You ask a lot of meaningless questions, woman."  
He moved away, purposefully towards a corner shelf lined with gleaming spheres.  
A pale arm rose, taking one of the circular objects from the far end of the case.  
"Humans are curious... sometimes... we just naturally question to know." Inoue explained.  
She eyed the gleaming sphere between his fingers as he slipped it into his Hakama pocket.  


The thought of possibly intruding on a moment made her lower her gaze to inspect the floors instead. 

"... I was born in the dark." came the murmured response.  
She lifted her face and almost made a startled sound, eyes greeted by the white front of his coat.  
_How did he move so quickly and quietly like that?_  
She felt her body instinctively curl backwards.  
"Born in Nothingness, born from Nothingness. Despite that, my eyes see everything perfectly."  
Ulquiorra seemed unfazed, studying her.  
"Is your curiosity satisfied?" He grated quietly.  
Inoue looked into his slit-pupils, suddenly recalling something she'd studied in Biology Class:  
Certain predators had these vertical-shaped pupils, and they were hunters.  
Their eyes were honed especially for locating their prey from far distances and in the dark.  
They locked on from a certain height or depth, and they swooped or struck faster and far more accurately than others without it... 

She was suddenly aware of his close proximity. 

An Adjuchas scuttled over to them from the left, holding a dress in its pincers and she recoiled almost immediately with tripping breath.  
"Ulquiorra-sama. _Her_ garment." It spoke from a Hollow skull embedded in its throat.  
Ulquiorra prolonged the stare, discerning her reaction, before looking at the Adjuchas and taking the dress.  
"Thank you, your response is swift as always."  
The creature bowed and slid away, clacking back down the narrow passage. 

The Espada slipped his hand into his other pocket and produced her hairclips, and then he held them between his forefinger and thumb, and pinching, shattered the binding Spirit Membrane around it.  
"If you try anything, I am much faster. I assume you know this."  


He raised his gaze, pupils jerking at the sight of Inoue's sudden smile.  
For a moment, his eyes convinced him she had been replaced with someone else.  
His forefinger lifted a millimeter in response. 

_Ridiculous.  
The girl was expressing joy._

"Ulquiorra, you... treat your followers well, I think." The shield-user's eyes softened, oblivious.  
"Meaningless observation." He said, realizing he was chastising himself just as much as her.  
"And we have wasted enough time as it is. You will heal yourself."  
He held the hairpins out to her, and she gingerly took them.  


"Turn around. Your back, to me."  
"I..."  
"Do it."  


He sensed a slight thumping in his consciousness and took note of it, eyes sharpening in observance at the girl as she slowly turned her face away and gave him a view of the sloping back of her dress.  
"I can't really see where I should.... - This is a little-" She tripped clumsily over her words, flustered.  
"I have eyes. And I will make sure you heal the area completely..."  
"... Soten Ki-"  
"- Wait."

Inoue felt his touch on her, fingers and knuckles, brushing idly.  
It was so subtle that if she'd not been on alert, it would have bypassed her entirely.  
She snatched a breath, hearing a mute rip and the loosening of cloth.  
The air bit into her flesh, prickling over the sting as a large portion of the dress fell away.  
It exposed almost her whole back to the Cuatro.  
The girl cringed slightly, fighting back the embarrassment.  
She'd never stood like this before any man before. 

_No, he's not a man..._  
_He only looks like one, Inoue._  
_He's...-_

"Unfasten it."  


"What?" Her eyebrows rose in confusion.  
"Your inner garment with the strap across your back. It is partially torn."  
Inoue's face grew hot as she realized what inner garment he was talking about.  
She reached up behind her, fumbling for the hooks of her bra and unsnapping them.  
She bit at her lower lip and shut her eyes, mortified, feeling her breasts loosen under the outfit.  
"I want to see everything. Properly." Ulquiorra's voice lingered very closely behind her.  
"Okay." She whispered, swallowing the rising trepidation pushing at her throat.  
"You will control the size of your shield." He continued.  
"If it expands beyond where I indicate and I sense too much reiatsu, I will restrain you... with force."  
She heard him take a small step and felt a gentle press between her shoulder blades.  
"Here..." So close his breath stirred the tiny hairs on her neck.  
His finger streaked down her back, trailing beside her spine, pressing resolutely inches above the dimples of her rear.  
"-until here. No further."  


Inoue didn't realize she'd been holding her breath.  
Her heart had started to hammer in her chest.  
"Mm." She nodded, internally shaken.  
He stood for a moment, silently assessing. And then he eased out, giving her space.  
"You may start." 

"Soten Kisshun."

His eyes focused, watching a restrained shield slowly form and meet in the middle over her back.  
There was a brief moment of silence as time passed and the Arrancar watched her flesh glow, bits of spiritual energy undoing what was done, fusing the cut as particles of human life slipped back into her.

He had been right. This was not a power that drew from time-space elements.  
And it was nothing like how his regeneration worked.  


The elements simply materialized from emptiness and not from what was already there.  
He recalled many times he stood, watching his limbs growing out and reforming like blackened vines.  
But they always came from what was left of him.  


No, this human was different.  
Her skill was the Complete Negation of events.  
A walking impossibility he would not have acknowledged, if not for the manifestation he was now seeing that proved its existence.  
She conjured things from _Nothingness_...

The blatant realization made Ulquiorra's eyes widen. 

He straightened then, feeling an odd sensation.  
Beneath the fabric of his uniform, he thought of the hole in his sternum. 

Opening his eyes a long time ago for the first time.  
Born suddenly into consciousness.  
There was only darkness around him.  
He continued to evolve, even if he consumed no Hollows.  
He did nothing but observe the endless eating frenzies of black creatures around him.  
He was born with no one, isolated, continually materializing.  
And different. 

But this principle: Conjured from Nothing.  
This woman held the same powers that possibly birthed his very existence.  
A defying gesture to the gods.  
How far did those powers go?  
If she could bring back an arm... Could she bring back organs as well?  
His pupils fastened into fine slits.  
Could she bring back a life?  


Inoue didn't realize him pressing closer to study the spill of her orange locks.  
His eyes lowered to her back, tracing an avid stare over the delicate juts of her shoulder blades.  
Her humanity, her warmth, assaulted his senses.  
She was effortlessly enticing and also, because of his very nature, he despised every bit of her that was alive.  
She was special, and he had underestimated her.  


With newfound interest, his eyes roamed her now flawless, unmarred skin.  
What was this power inside her?  
_Humans are curious... sometimes... we just naturally question to know._  
His eyes narrowed at the abrupt echo of her voice in his mind, because something about the association sickened him.  


He dismissed the thought and carefully moved, turning to face her front on with a sudden testiness that made his emerald stare a dark pine-green in the dark.  
His eyebrows lowered and he finally held the dress out.  
"You will put this on." He instructed. 

Inoue blinked, hands gathering consciously to her front, surprised at the sudden change in him.  
He expected her to simply strip?  
The thought made her flare with embarrassment. There was no way.  


"Ulquiorra... In case you didn't know, with Shun-shun Rikka I can actually repair this dress, and there's no need for that, really. I can just..."  
"Do as I say. I have my reasons. Your dress is evidence to accompany my report."  
He stepped closer, meaning to threaten her into submission.  
The girl swallowed.  
"I... am not comfortable changing in front of you." Came her stammer as she eyed the dress.  
"Your convenience is not important. Do not try me." His voice dropped to a cold whisper.  
The girl recoiled slightly, an expression of a trapped animal experiencing a slow onset of distress.  
And then...  
Ulquiorra felt the familiar fluttering along his consciousness.  
It had been nagging everyday.  
Everyday.  
It grew everytime the captive saw him, and it prodded at him, sometimes even as she slept.  
At this moment, his patience was unusually thin, as they were running behind schedule.  
Something he disliked entirely.  
And he had grown tired of dismissing that growing, thumping... _thing_... inside her.  


Perhaps, there was something he could ask to gauge her, to read her better, and predict her mannerisms.  
"Are you afraid of me, woman?" He calmly asked, meeting her eyes.  
"No..." She said, setting her face stubbornly, as if she had decided to test him after all, with her feeble attempts at being bold.  
Ridiculous, his jaw clenched.  
The tell-tale signs proved otherwise.  


"You dare lie." His voice lowered dangerously.  
"Ulquiorra will not hurt me." Inoue suddenly blurted.  


"... Oh?" Came the barely audible breath of inquiry.  


In less time than it took to blink, a pale hand had flown to her neck, gripping enough that she let out a gasp and pried at him.  
"Ghn-" Her gray eyes filled with fear and suspended disbelief.  
The look was almost interesting, he observed. 

He took a step forward, lifting her effortlessly by the neck and pushing her against the nearest cobblestone wall with enough force the breath hissed out of her.  
And then he dropped her and Inoue crumpled, barely standing, rapid breaths rattling as she swayed against the wall. 

"As I have said, previously: I am monitoring your physical condition."  
He watched her suppress a sob, and the dampness in her eyes caught the flicker of candlelight.  
"I have grown increasingly aware of it. That thing in your chest that beats to keep you alive. It pounds incessantly when you see me. You are afraid."  


"It's called... a Heart. And being afraid isn't the only reason for it." Inoue choked softly, eyebrows pulling together as she straightened, using the last of her dignity.  
"A Heart." Ulquiorra's tone was flat.  
"You say your heart is in your chest, but you say it is also with your friends. You talk about 'bonding' hearts - laughable -about how this act evolves into 'Caring' and 'Friendship.' And this then possesses the power to grant wishes and accomplishments through sheer willpower. Woman... Are you aware..." He leaned closer, eyes starkly bright in the darkness. "- of how utterly _nonsensical_ this entire explanation sounds to me."  
The girl closed her mouth, tightly setting her jaw.  
In the dimly lit room, her irises had turned into glistening rims of gold.  
Inoue was giving him a look he couldn't quite analyze.  
She was tolerating him, and withholding something.  
It was underlying anger and submissive hesitation, and there was something else. 

But Ulquiorra could not see it, thus he dismissed it as being nothing.  
His eyes, unflinching and expressionless, never left her unclad form as she stepped out of her dress and into the new one. 

\----


	7. Espada Quarters: The 8th Espada - Szayel Aporro's Laboratory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> General kindness and raving feeds my Reiatsu!  
> Yknow how it goes.  
> Thank you, for comments and Kudos. <3
> 
> Notes: Ulquiorra's birth and history are taken from the Bleach Official Character book called "Unmasked."
> 
> \- Second_Best

"That... was most unexpected." 

Urahara traversed the hallway of his home behind the shop.  
Tessai followed closely from behind, carrying the unconscious Inoue gently over one shoulder. 

"Ah, Kurosaki-san will not be happy." The ex-Captain chuckled morosely, glancing down. 

"More importantly, we need more information about this Espada-" Yoruichi mumbled, wrapping a sheet around her naked form and following light-footedly on his other side.  
"- Ulquiorra."

"I doubt the 12th Captain has enough patience to deal with any more of my questions." Urahara quirked his mouth.  
"Besides that, I happen to know they've recovered absolutely nothing of his body. As the Quincy said, it disintegrated during their fight with Kurosaki-san."  
The sandy-haired man sighed, pushing a hand into his robe pocket. 

"Please set her down here, Tessai-san." He gestured with the other hand at the futon.  
The broad man nodded and placed her carefully into the blankets, features unreadable.  
And then, with a somber expression, he excused himself shutting the wooden doors behind him. 

"So..." Urahara looked down at Inoue's sleeping form.  
"- All the surveillance footage we saw seemed to belong to Ulquiorra." He raised his eyebrows at Yoruichi. "What is your take on the matter?"

"Hmm. Maybe, he was the last one in charge of surveillance." The girl pondered, lifting her bare shoulders.  
"And perhaps he used Synchronized Recognition just like the Aaroniero Arruruerie."

"Ah, but... Synchronized Recognition can only be used to communicate between Espada, and it's a real-time broadcast. It's not likely to be recorded or put into orbs. And in a surveillance room, for that matter..."  
Urahara casually plopped against the wall beside her. 

"Another thing is, judging from Kurosaki-san's exchange with him in the footage, this was what took place only moments before their final battle. Ulquiorra wouldn't have had time to place the information into orbs, don't you think?"

Yoruichi's face glowered with silent frustration.  
"You're right..." She muttered. "It doesn't make sense."

Urahara looked out the open window and into the night, hearing the slow howl of coming winter winds. He pinched at his nose and closed his eyes, at a momentary loss. 

There was a short silence. 

"...Unless..."

Urahara turned to the steady voice of the woman beside him.  
She was curled into her sheet, lying sprawled watching the ginger-haired girl slumber, deep in concentrated thought.  
Something was dawning over her yellow eyes.  
It seemed to click and she rose forgetting the sheets completely.  
Urahara blinked, vaguely distracted by her slender nakedness. 

"Yes?" He squeezed out. 

"Unless, what we saw wasn't _really_ from the orbs..."  
Yoruichi's eyes widened slightly, looking at him.  
"It's coming from Inoue!"

Urahara mutely studied her awestruck face before his eyes fought a losing battle, slipping down to her stunning display of perky breasts.  
"... You know, this is no place or time to do this to me, Yoruichi." He weakly joked. 

"I'm being serious, gutterhead." She sprung, grabbing his coat.  
"Ah-tatatata! Ah! I mean, yes. Yes, you're right. Of course! Of course, you're right. Please stop squeezing. At least not like this. It's painful. It's- _Yoruichi, stop!_ "  
"Some balls you've got!"  
"Well, thank yo-... Ah-wwwwwai-! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"  
"No, you're not."  
"I'm not! I'm not sorry!"

\---

Inoue remained fast asleep and unmoving.  
Her mind, already somewhere far away. 

Her consciousness was slipping into a darkness that grew deeper and deeper until the existence of light disappeared entirely.  
She floated, unseeing and unfeeling, in the black. 

And suddenly, there was something.  
A glimmer at first, striking and small.  
And then it grew,  
And Inoue realized she had eyes.  
Her eyes,  
were seeing a beautiful shade of ivory. 

\---

"So...?" Szayel Aporro raised an eyebrow and gave a curling smirk. 

He was barring the entryway to his laboratory on purpose, toying with Ulquiorra it seemed.  
"What kept you..." His amber eyes crinkled, teasingly "- Cuatro Espada-sama."

"You very well know what kept me, Szayel."  
Ulquiorra raised his green stare at Szayel's limber 6-foot form.  
"How I love being in charge of surveillance." The pink-haired Arrancar grinned.  
"I see such interesting things."

The Fourth Espada moved sideways, and Inoue carefully stepped forward, hardened eyes glued to the floor.  
"Ah. Darling, darling girl! Magnifico! Espléndido! Such a beautiful, vibrant shade of orange hair adorns your precious head."  
The Eighth Espada mused, approaching her.  
Inoue raised her gaze, a ghost of hesitation breaking her sullen features. 

"You're even more beautiful..." He snatched the captive's hand, pulling the cuffboard to him, "- in person."  
He brushed her fingers idly against his lips in chaste greeting.  
His amber gaze slid sideways towards a different outstretched hand. "Now, now, Ulquiorra-sama. That is uncalled for."  
Ulquiorra's forefinger lifted minutely in response.  
Szayel dropped Inoue's wrist with a roll of his eyes.  
"You are so entirely predictable. I would have wanted at least to see actual human blood."  
The Arrancar scoffed, eyes settling on the ginger-haired girl.  


The woman was strangely unresponsive and far too quiet, Ulquiorra noted.  
His eyes narrowed, trying to analyze her behavior.

Beside him, the scientist Espada continued to ramble.  
"A perfect incision on human flesh? It would have provided for some exciting tissue samples. Wasted opportunity, Ulquiorra, wasted."  
He raised a gloved finger and waggled it, finding joy in the fact he'd managed to slip the Cuatro's name into his statement without honorifics.

"Perhaps that is why I've decided to dress her appropriately." The Cuatro answered, eyes lifting.  
"I am entirely aware of how you get carried away by your madness. Triggering you with the sight of an incision and possibly having to destroy you and your equipment, is uncalled for."  
"Oh, ye of little faith." Szayel declared with an exasperated toss of his arms.

He turned around, sauntering towards his table of monitors and keyboards.  
"You have no imagination. No inclination! You only follow, follow, follow." 

He began typing and opening windows before exiting to the side and plucking up a structural helmet covered in wires.  
"No wonder he placed you in charge." The Octava Espada mumbled, staring down almost disgustedly at the headpiece.  


He turned to face Inoue, approaching with it in his gloved hands. 

"You're such a beautiful sample of the sub-species. I'm sure, you would have been a good girl, and you would have let me take at least an inch of fat and skin... Yes?" He leaned in, smirking.

"No." Inoue and Ulquiorra spoke at the same time.  
Their eyes met - Her face slightly bothered. His face characteristically cold.  
Szayel blinked, amused. "Oh? Is that how it is."

"I can answer for myself." Inoue suddenly said, not taking her eyes off the Cuatro Espada.  
The pink-haired Arrancar gave a few slow blinks and then his amber eyes narrowed and he gave a candid smirk.  
"Well, well." He mused, "What _have_ you done?"  
"... It appears, she is angry, Ulquiorra-... _sama._ " He gave the Cuatro a meaningful look.  
"Yes." She answered, "I am."

Outside of battle, Ulquiorra had never been surprised.  
Until this woman.  
This woman had reached out that night and slapped him.  
It wasn't the slap that surprised him, but rather the fact that he had allowed it at all.  
There would have to be a first time for everything.  
This was the second. 

The Arrancar's exceptional observation skills were on full alert, and the warning bells were going off.  
Something about her had changed drastically.  
"Why?" He found himself asking.  
"Because of you!" She blurted.  
"If it is because I choked you-"  
"It's not just because you choked me, I've been choked before. Your chokehold is a fly compared to what I've been through. I-... I was an abused child!" She declared, cheeks growing pink and her chest heaving slightly.  
"A _fly_." Ulquiorra's voice rose a notch from a whisper to a low timbre.  
"You wouldn't know what a fly was!" She carried on, her eyes slightly growing brighter with a trembling sheen of moistness.  
"You probably kill any helpless, living thing before you even get the chance to understand what they are. And that isn't the point. I _am_ angry. And I'm humiliated."

Ulquiorra pulled back, eyes widening minutely at her insolence.  
Just _where_ was all of this unneeded human emotion coming from?  
He levelled her with a weighty stare and an ample pause.  
"You dare." He whispered slowly.  
"I do." She pushed without missing a beat, cheeks flaming.  
Szayel blinked and quickly forced the headset on her.  
"For science. This is wonderful! Subarashi!"

\-- 

If there was one thing Inoue learned from Ulquiorra's surprising behavior in his lair:  
It was that he couldn't really _hurt_ her. Not in a way that was truly painful.  
His hand on her neck had surprised her, squeezed enough to terrify her.  
He'd pushed her into the wall and fooled her into thinking he would proceed to crush her...  
But the moment she began to choke, he immediately dropped her.  
He would frighten her, and push her. But he would not hurt her.  
It was ridiculous believing that, but he was the one who protected her.  
He wouldn't. 

It normally took a lot more for her to cry.  
It wasn't the fear of pain, she'd been through much pain in her life.  
What brought tears was being truly alone and being betrayed. 

In that moment, she was betrayed.

\--

"We will dissect the chemistry in her brain as she uses her abilities. Her ability to repel attack, her ability to attack, and her ability to 'reject,' as you say in your report." Szayel's voice came through the speakers. 

They stood in the 8th Espada's testing chamber.  
The structure reminded Inoue of a gigantic glass-enforced greenhouse. 

Ulquiorra stood a few meters across her, silently listening, never taking his eyes off his captive.  
Inoue had gotten used to the staring.  
Her un-cuffed hands had the urge to touch the hairclips that had been returned to her. But she forced the urge down with a grim look. 

The lights around them glowed like a stadium's, washing out all shadow.  
His hair, contrary to what she always thought, was not in fact jet-black.  
It had a tint of very dark green to go with his eyes.  
The lights illuminated the tips of his locks like the edges of Pine and he stood slightly canted backwards with that spectacular frown. 

The girl felt some of her anger dissipate, replaced by a sudden uneasiness.  
Ulquiorra was the equivalent of a Soul Society Captain, after all.  
Perhaps, he even surpassed one.  
The headpiece she wore seemed to press down gratingly into her temples.  
_Ulquiorra won't hurt me._

"Test starts now. You will spar. To your heart's content!" came the overly joyous declaration. 

Szayel sealed the airlock doors of the glass encasement behind him and she felt the dread return tenfold.  
Inoue backed up a step, hands flying to her hairpins in defense.  


Ulquiorra gave her a stare. And then his legs pushed off the ground.  
Inoue leapt backwards, hand on her clip.  
"Tsubaki! Koten Zanshun, I reject!"  
The shard broke off from her, zipping towards Ulquiorra.  
She caught a glimpse of Tsubaki's driven expression as he sped forward  


_Ulquiorra won't hurt me._  


Before she could blink, he was in front of her.  
He shot out with an open palm, too quickly for Inoue to follow and the fairy collided into him with a short spark of vivid gold.  
Inoue's breath caught as she watched Tsubaki crumple with a guttural squeak.  
The Cuatro slid to a stop, and then he straightened, wordlessly dropping the shard with a clink.  


His eyebrows pressed together as he eyed Inoue.  
Szayel Aporro was laughing.  


"She's not taking you seriously, Ulquiorra-sama."  
"So it seems." Ulquiorra's tone had lowered.  
His slit pupils focused on her form as she ran from him.  
Inoue turned around and Ulquiorra straightened.  


He brought a hand up slowly, palm out, charging a glowing red ball.  
"Defend yourself." He warned.  
"Santen Kesshun, I reject-!"  


_Ulquiorra can't hurt me!_  


The shield had barely fused down the middle when the Bala flew into it, shattering it instantly.  
The Cuatro walked forward, unfazed and fired again.  
Inoue repeated the chant, reconstructing the shield - Only to have it form barely 3/4ths of the way this time, before it splintered into even smaller fragments from a second hit.  
She gasped, staggering back to her feet, widening their distance.  


_Ulquiorra can't hurt me._  


She took a final step back, pushing into the glass wall behind her.  
The Cuatro closed the gap between them, planting one arm on the wall beside her and raising the other palm inches from her face.  
"Take me seriously." He leaned in with a whisper, pupils expanding. "Or it will be painful."  
The red ball was crackling, gathering in mass, growing before her eyes.  
Inoue could feel the weight of spirit energy press against her skin.  
Her eyes squeezed into slits, the red reflecting off her irises.  


"Ulquiorra..." She gasped.  
The Arrancar felt an oddness ripple through him and his eyes flickered, briefly, confused. 

"Soten Kisshun!"

_Her restoration powers?_  


He shot back just as a larger, stronger shield fell like a divider, separating him from her, dwarfing the previous attacks.  
A strange weight began pushing into his hand, and the Bala's red glow started to shrink, particles fusing back into his hand.  
Inoue pushed away from the wall, both hands now held out supporting the shield.  
He felt another pulse, this time rippling straight through him as he hunched.  
The Cuatro impulsively pushed an arm out, shattering the shield with his elbow.  
His horned helmet lifted, slit pupils watching it crumble around him. 

Ulquiorra lifted his palm, mutely observing the retreating glow.  
And then his emerald eyes jerked back sharply to her, almost bothered.

"Interesting." Szayel broke into their reverie.  


Ulquiorra raised his head, catching the pink-haired Arrancar's amber eyes through the glass wall.  
The scientist nudged at his eyeglasses, giving him a wider grin. "Lord Aizen will find this very interesting."  
"Her mind has no will to attack, no will to defend. Only..." He crossed his arms, eyebrows rising. "- she's quite passionate about that power of restoration."  


Ulquiorra straightened, his eyes wandering towards the girl beside him.  


"Rejection, how painful." Szayel sighed, suppressing another twitch of a smile with gloved fingers.  
Ulquiorra ignored Szayel's implication.  
He looked down at the woman, assessing her response.  


Inoue was breathing hard, and had grown quiet again.  
She pressed her back against the glass, eyebrows stitched together.  
A hand clutched at one sleeve as the fairies returned to her hairclips in a fusion of brief golden light.

Ulquiorra continued to inspect her behavior.  
"Are you in pain?" He asked.  
He could feel the throbbing along his consciousness.  
Her heartbeat.  
Strangely increasing when it was supposed to be slowing in recovery.  


"Are you hurt?" Ulquiorra's tone silently demanded.  
"No." Inoue finally whispered, focusing on the ground.  


He studied her gray gaze, eyes lowering to the heave of her chest as she stood taking her breaths.  
"Exhausted?" He asked again, moving closer to peer at her flushed cheeks.  
"No." She gave a firm shake. 

"Afraid?"  
"No, I'm not afraid."

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed.  
"We stop this guessing game. Now. Why did you use your restoring technique, when the attack clearly called for defense?"

She wouldn't look at him.  
But her heart was thrashing, he knew.  
It was the most bothersome thumping he'd ever known.  
"Woman."  
No response.  
His eyes sharpened and he snatched her chin, forcing her to look.  
The girl barely resisted this time. 

"Don't move..." Szayel's voice trailed off.  
His eyes were on his monitors.  
"This is very interesting behavior her brain is showing me."

"Her brain." Ulquiorra repeated with a murmur. "Her heart."  
"I couldn't care less about things I don't see." He whispered.  
That seemed to break through to her.  
For a moment, the Cuatro thought the human would cry. 

But Ulquiorra got his third surprise.  
Inoue's palms flew to his eyes, clamping down, forcing his lids closed.  
He stood there, stunned, breath hitching below the hole on his throat.  
For a moment, their breaths mingled - hers staggering, and his clipped. 

And then the Cuatro had flung her, effortlessly snatching her arm away and pinning it back over her head.  
He pushed until she cried out.  


"What... do you think you're doing." He slowly wrung out the words between her struggling whimpers.  
Szayel could only stare, dumbfounded. 

"I'm trying to make you understand-" The girl squeezed out, "... Things you don't see are more important than you think. Your eyes can't know everything. Your eyes won't understand at all. Don't you realize there's something else that's there too? Something bigger? These things in me you don't care about... are more powerful than you think." Her voice quaked.  


Was this woman trying to convince him to recognize her _emotions_?  
He did not see a need for her to be so wildly irrational about it.  
She was as unpredictable and foolish as any of them came.  
And just as fervently defensive about these 'feelings' and various concepts of Love and Courage and Faith.  
Humans and their meaningless behaviors and beliefs in false comforts.  
His eyebrows lowered with a frustrated frown.  


"This is ridiculous." He finally stated.  
"I have no need to understand you anymore than I should. And if you attempt anything like that again, I will break both of your wrists in more ways than you can possibly count."

Inoue's mouth thinned in response to the iciness of his stare and those harsh words.  
Ulquiorra's imposing power dug at her and she quaked subtly, reacting to his freshly used, battle-prompted Reiatsu.  
But she quietly braved that powerful weight pressing into her throat, her eyes meeting his sliver of degradation with an expression of her own.  


A sad look, the Cuatro quickly labelled.  
And it was strangely lacking of the fear he had wanted to instil.  


... As if she simply refused to believe his threat.  


\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> I wanted Inoue to stand up for herself a little. She ended up having a lot of sass.  
> U SLAY, BAE!  
> But let's break into Ulquiorra's tough hide (hierro) very slowly until he butters up nicely for you! ^o^)/
> 
> At this point, I will take a break from writing everyday.  
> But please, know your response is appreciated!  
> The feedback will help me with fixing any problems with pacing, or fictional facts(?), or off-putting behaviors from OOC characters.  
> Or well, general kindness and raving feeds my Reiatsu!
> 
> Yknow how it goes.  
> Thank you, and Kudos!!!
> 
> \- Second_Best


	8. Hueco Mundo: The Crystal Trees Grove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Decided to release this early because a friend was so dear to inspire me.  
> She gave me the initiative to finish this much earlier than expected. 
> 
> Note:  
> Closed some plot gaps and answered questions.  
> Tried my hand at chiselling away at Ulquiorra. Again. Madness. (As in, I went mad. Not him. And not the plot. Thankfully.)
> 
> More fluff and cheese.  
> More smug sass from Szayel. 
> 
> Also, some feels.  
> And if you've read Bleach Official Character Book: Unmasked - many feels. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always... Kudos or Comments, much appreciated. 
> 
> \- Second_Best

The Octava Espada settled back into his chair, amber eyes on his monitor as the computer codes streamed in continuous processing.  
On a separate window, the surveillance cameras flickered, switching from area to area as it did when it was compressed in single-view mode.

"Your suppressed Spiritual Energy is stabilized. You may exit." 

He pushed the release switch on the airlock doors of the enclosure and it opened with a disengaged hiss of pressure. 

Szayel observed them patiently, particularly the human subject, eyeing the head-gear for signs of active blips.  
She stepped out of the chamber with her head low.  
And then that pompous Cuatro followed watching closely from behind, his white coat and hakama pleats impeccable as ever. 

_The only thing I've ever wondered about you, Ulquiorra-sama, is how you manage to make such a plain Espada uniform fit so wonderfully in all the right places._  
His lip quirked, studying the Cuatro's taut form as he straightened, extracting something from his pocket. 

Szayel's eyes narrowed as Ulquiorra slowly held a sphere out to him.  
"Is this what Lord Aizen briefed me on?"  
"Yes." came the 4th Espada's short reply. 

Szayel's glare pushed exasperatedly at the ceiling, as he took the orb.  
"You could have at least designed it better, Uqluiorra-sama, if its purpose is to stay in _my_ surveillance room. It looks like the marbles I used to stuff down my idiotic older brother's throat."  
Save for a slight nudge of both eyebrows, Ulquiorra said nothing.  


"Tell me, why can the surveillance information only be tapped through _your_ spiritual imprint?" Szayel dragged out, grandly gesturing at his laboratory.  
"It's rather insulting for Lord Aizen not to trust me entirely, when I monitor these halls as thoroughly as you do."  
"Perhaps, that is because you sent the Exequias to attack Kurosaki Ichigo's party without his prior consent." Ulquiorra stated.  


Beside him, the human girl visibly straightened.  


"Or perhaps-" The Cuatro continued "... because you had surveillance insects placed on your brother when they infiltrated the human realm, also without his prior consent-"  
Szayel cut the explanation short with a snort, hitting a button to process Uquiorra's official psychological report.

"For science, Ulquiorra- _sama_! Sci-ence. Not like you would even _begin_ to understand...-"  
The headgear slid across his table, and Szayel's eyes narrowed.  
"That is important equipment, I advise you be careful..."

Ulquiorra was taking off the human captive's hairclips in silence.  
A ginger lock fell across her nose and his forefinger idly nudged it back towards her ear before continuing to unfasten the other.  
This seemed to be a grand gesture to the girl.  
Her gray eyes slid up, watching him. 

The Octava brushed it off, angling sideways to slide the orb into a steel case beside his monitors.  
"We don't need your thumbprint as extra password verification, do we?" He questioned sarcastically.  
"You need not concern yourself." Came the flat reply.  
"Just as instructed upon you in the previous Espada meeting, you will convert the latest surveillance data and transfer it into the orb... and you will surrender all surveillance equipment to my servant Adjuchas." Ulquiorra slowly reiterated, raising his eyes to peruse the aggravated Weapons Specialist.  
"It would be a shame if the orb had somehow slipped from one of my clumsy assistant's useless paws during its transfer." Szayel gave a smirking drawl.  
"It is I who advises you to be careful..." Ulquiorra's steely, reptilian glare penetrated.  
"If you or any individual from your fraccion so much as try to break into the orb's contents, or analyze the nature of its composition... I will undoubtedly know of it. And immediately relieve you of your duties."  
The dangerous implication slid from Ulquiorra's barely-parted lips.  


"I don't see a demotion in my immediate future, Ulquiorra. Only more bodies hanging on my laboratory storage ceiling."  
The Eight Espada gave a dark, seething glower as he spoke with dragging emphasis.  
Inoue uncomfortably shifted at that, sliding an inch towards the Cuatro.  
"Then you best begin work on what is asked of you." He murmured dryly.  
"Oh, I have _always_ worked. Even more enthusiastically so if you are, say, to be... rendered temporarily incapable of conducting surveillance..."  
The Octava's deceivingly casual voice dripped with threat.  
Inoue's gaze wandered with hesitant confusion between the two now sparking an invisible fire.  
"I assure you, a temporary handicap is something I can remedy within seconds." Came the Cuatro's toneless voice.  
"The only time you will have an opportunity to observe footage for anything you find 'interesting' to interfere with, Szayel Aporro Granz, is when I am inarguably dead."

For a moment, the Eighth Espada looked as if he would erupt in an explosion of anger. 

Ulquiorra only watched him carefully, still devoid of emotion.  
He took the human's forearm and slowly pulled her behind him.  
She followed with a brief hitch of breath.

Szayel's eyes flattened, and then his lips curled in disgust. 

_Hn. Such a boring, boring partnership Lord Aizen decided on._  
_Things could have been... far more exciting._

Nevertheless... 

_A being of perfection must work with what he has._  


The 8th Espada grinned to himself, pink locks slipping unguarded across his face.  


_And Ulquiorra- _sama_ will realize, soon enough, just how important the things he cannot see are. _

A blip on the surveillance monitor drew his curiosity.  
His amber gaze flicked sideways, and the Octava raised an eyebrow seeing a familiar Shinigami with spiked blood-red hair and black facial tattoos race down a hallway.  
"Ah, right on time. Test subject: Numero Dos."  
He skimmed a gloved finger across his upper lip.

\--

Ulquiorra's pace was not hard to follow. 

It was relatively slow and subdued compared to his inconceivable speed in battle.  
The manner of which reminded Inoue very much of Rukia-san's older brother, the 6th Captain, Kuchiki Byakuya-sama.  
They walked past the grand chandelier and made the left towards his quarters.  
The Adjuchas making their way along the narrow passage all stopped, giving their respective bows as he passed with Inoue in tow. 

Before long, they had emerged into the room where the Cuatro had forced her to the wall and into her new dress.  
Her face lowered as a wave of humiliation coursed through her.  
She raised her cuffboard, pressing her wrists to her bosom reflexively, eyes dimming.  
Her heart continued to pound.  
Come to think of it, she still felt the tingling alertness of battle, as if her body and mind were fighting to stay on guard.  
She was a little short of breath from the way her chest traipsed; feeling like she'd chugged shot after shot of thick, bitter espresso.  
A nervous wreck, and on edge, ready to spring away at the slightest bump.  
It was making her palms cold and moist.  


Was something wrong with her?

Her chest tightened oddly, and she grew more aware as the pulse pounded into her temples and over her throat.  
Her heart felt like it was gonna combust.  
_Any minute now._  
_Inoue, breathe._  
She restrained the urge to slap her cheeks.  
_Oh no, this MUST be a heart attack!_  
Her eyes widened slightly, pupils expanding.  


Ulquiorra slowed, turning to her with a slightly disturbed look. 

His frown deepened, eyes glinting in the atmospheric dark as he studied her wordlessly.  
She found her vision had adjusted mostly because of his figure, and how strikingly alabaster he was.  
He raised a hand then, ghosting a finger over the cuffboard.  
The plank broke apart, hitting the floor with a dull clunk. 

"About my earlier actions..." He said.  
"The incident regarding the dress had to be done." His emerald stare shifted to her face.  
"I will not look away from a foreign subject within the confines of my own Quarters."  
She didn't say anything, only focused hard at the pleated folds of his pants.  
Some of the previous frustration came back, unsuppressed.  
Her eyes hardened and she exhaled the constantly-building anxiety from her chest.  
_A foreign subject? Is that what she was?_ His words did nothing to ease her.  


Ulquiorra's eyes flickered, picking up on the girl's discomfort almost immediately.  


_If he'd just spared some decency and turned around while I dressed myself._  
Inoue closed her eyes, exhaling again.  
_Doesn't he understand the idea of embarrassment?_  
Her eyebrows pushed up remembering her mortification.  
She even had to struggle with the straps of her bra in front of him.  
And he had just watched. He hadn't even blinked! She could almost die of the shame that consumed her.  
_... No_  
Inoue shut her eyes, swallowing the maddening flutters rising to her throat.  
_Ulquiorra doesn't understand anything I feel._  
Her hands pressed even more tightly into her body.  
Another wave of anxiety rushed at her and she felt her vision sharpen, as if there was a push of adrenaline. 

"Stop." This time, Ulquiorra exhaled. It came out sounding almost tired.  
"... Breathe." He whispered calmly. 

She looked up at him, noticing suddenly that her breath _was_ staggered. 

"You should have recovered, and it should have settled by now." Ulquiorra said in his unusually quiet timbre.  
"It would have to be that thing in your chest..." He trailed off, his features seeming to struggle, eyes narrowed very low, his mind grappling something.  
Inoue stared at him, temporarily forgetting her own condition.  
She felt she'd never seen so much emotion contorting his features, it was almost a morbid relief to look at.  
Her eyes squinted just a little from the oddity.  


"Please restrain it." He finally said.  


_'Please'?_  
Despite the burden in her chest, she gave him a mute stare, her face flickering with disbelief at hearing an actual request leave his mouth.  
The reverie was broken as she remembered what he'd said at the sparring enclosure.  


_"Her brain. Her heart."_  
_"I couldn't care less about the things I don't see."_

"What does it matter..." Her voice shook, more because of her skittish condition than anything else.  
"I thought you didn't care." She evenly said, suppressing her quivering and raising her apprehensive gray eyes. 

Ulquiorra grew quiet.  


This woman was insolent.  
She was entirely emotional.  
Irrational beyond any other being apart from the human Trash that surrounded her that she called her 'Friends.'  


And whatever was inside her was interfering with his person, more than he thought possible.  


Inoue watched those glinting orbs of green in the darkness.  
Despite her staggering breaths, she took the time to look at them, wondering if there was anything beyond what naturally projected outwards like a flat emptiness.  


He only stared at her with, what she imagined to be - (as she could not quite see it so well in this darkness) - The same dispassionate look.  
And then his palm had stretched out pressing to her chest with surprising accuracy above the exact place her heart existed, palpitating.  
He pushed gently until she was forced to take a step back against the nearest flat surface.  
She thumped into the shelf behind her and the breath she was drawing lodged immediately.  
The girl stiffened, pinned like a deer caught in headlights.  
A sound was on the edge of her throat, until she caught his face in the shadows. 

"When it begins to bother me this way, it matters."

The urge crumbled. 

Ulquiorra stared hard at her, and then he became very still and his eyes closed. 

With a combination of fear and a bigger growing curiosity, the girl blinked rapidly, watching the calm settle over his face, her lips barely coming apart.  
In the heavy silence, there was nothing but their breaths mingling, and she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest under the zipped coat.  
She noted that she'd never noticed Ulquiorra _actually_ breathing.  
But he was.  
Breathing startlingly hard, she realized. 

_... Like me._

"Why do you have your eyes closed..." Inoue squeezed out a sharp exhale.  
There was no answer from him.  
The girl found she could do nothing in the dark but observe his features when they were at such close range.  
He appeared, almost to be concentrating.  


His eyelashes were surprisingly thick and dark.  
Winged tips pressed against that white alabaster skin.  
Raven locks were slipping unnoticed over the fine bridge of his nose as he tilted, fixated and unmoving. 

He was attractive, Inoue suddenly realized, almost alarmed.  
Her throat closed at the idea she was even thinking it. And in building a sudden panic, Inoue began breathing harder.

Ulquiorra was attractive.  
Despite the tracks that marred his cheeks like eternal tears and despite the bone helmet curling over one side of his head.  
And not in the way Kurosaki-kun was, with his angular features, sun-warmed skin and flaming, spiked hair. 

Kurosaki Ichigo was the forefront standout of their team, impulsively reckless.  
He was selfless and sacrificial, and spoke before he truly comprehended.  
He passionately declared his claims and wielded his power at the slightest chance to save someone else.  
And Ulquiorra, was his silent, opposite shadow.  
Every single thing he wasn't. 

Ulquiorra wasn't really tender, but he was.  
And he wasn't truly kind, but he was.  
And even if he had hurt her with harsh words and with his hands, he didn't truly hurt her - because he protected her. 

There was no gentle fondness.  
But there was duty.  
And in that, he was like Kurosaki Ichigo. 

The thoughts completely fell apart in her mind.  
Because the 4th Espada was leaning closer.  
"Here." He pressed the palm resolutely against her for verification, locking on to her left.  
"That thing in your chest."  
"Yes...?" Inoue's voice rose.  
A pause, and then the sound of an exhale from him.  
"Easier to find... without looking."  


"I-If that helps..." She said, swallowing almost audibly, allowing the invasion purely because he was who he was.  
And surely, he was naive about human ethics or breaches of personal space. Surely.  
That was the only reason why she would allow such a thing. Surely.  
The girl almost physically leapt when the Arrancar's other hand slowly rose to her neck.  
His fingers pressed over the jutting bump of bone below her nape before it trailed higher along the sloping curve.  
Inoue's breath hitched, the skin of her neck responding with tingles.  
She had the urge to slam her hands over his eyes again so she wouldn't have to see them open.  
She was absolutely mortified.  


"It helps."  
And then Ulquiorra all but stopped, unconsciously lowering his face as if he were zeroing in, thumb pressing lightly against that thin bulge on her neck as it pulsed.  
"My eyes compensate for other senses. And seeing you is entirely too distracting." came the low murmur.  
Ulquiorra's voice, delivered with his careful inspection, did something to Inoue.  
The response it elicited was a surprising, overall weakening.  
Her heart buckled, or was it her knees. And she began to quake again, very slightly.  
Inoue's teeth dug into her inner lip as she felt the heat creep up to her face.  
This was the farthest thing from what she expected.  


"U-...Ulquio..."  
Her heart was thrashing against her throat, it became hard to speak.  
The Cuatro seemed almost oblivious, if not for the shadowed disturbance that suddenly came over his face.  
"What is this, then?" He asked evenly.  
Her garment made a chaffing sound as it slid lower over the wooden shelf.  
"You mean my p-pulse? The blood when it flows... It's... the carotid artery ... It's... Ah, hard to explain. But that's not where the heart is." Inoue stuttered, beginning to break out in a heated sweat.  
His eyebrows seemed to lower in the dark, and he lingered for a long while, to the point the girl felt she would burst from her held breaths.  
He pressed again, oddly, as if he were making sure of something.  
"... Hm." Came the breathy grunt.  
"Ul...quiorra?" She squeezed out hesitantly, blinking warily when he slowly pulled away. 

His eyes finally opened, and he gave her a hard, deceivingly melancholic stare, giving her face and neck another quick sweep.  
"Complicated." He murmured distractedly, removing his hand and lifting slightly with a frown.  
"Every complicated creature probably has their own way of complicating... things." Inoue answered, before she cringed at her less-than-stellar phrasing.  
And when his emerald stare once again landed over her throat before lowering almost suspiciously to her hand, she felt a brush of uneasiness, feeling as if she'd missed something.  
Why was he scrutinizing her like that?  


He removed himself from her enough that she felt her breathing stabilize, if only a little.  
"It seems," Ulquiorra spoke, "there is, as you say, an exception."  
She looked at him, any former frustration completely gone, replaced now with absolute internal shock and confusion at what just transpired.  
"There is one thing I can't see..." He said, slit-pupils lowering.  
"- that needs to be monitored carefully."

"Control it." He instructed, eyes narrowing.  
"I..." Inoue looked perplexed, "- I can't."  
"If you were to relax..." He said again, taking his hand off her.  
"I am. As relaxed, at least, as I'll ever be in this kind of dark, Ulquiorra."  
Inoue didn't bother mentioning that his proximity or that sudden assault had only aggravated the condition.

"Is it often this way?"  
The question was more unbelievable than his previous chokehold.  
Her eyes grew wide as saucers at his semblance of curiosity.  
"I... no, not always. But, sometimes. When I drink too much coffee, or have too much red bean paste... or sugar! I-... I love red bean paste, sometimes I just eat too much of it."  
Ulquiorra's face was still despondent.  
"Constantly bothersome." came his clipped observation. 

"Well... I apologize for inconveniencing you." She answered, still suspended in disbelief.  
Her overactive imagination was feeding her visions of aliens replacing original beings, spaceships beaming them up and zipping away.  
"I can't control it, and I'm sorry... and... It's just... right now... - It's... making me feel very nervous and weird."  
The imagery was staying with her. A badly sketched Ulquiorra, waving his arms, with that perpetual frown on his face.  
In a brief moment of profound wonder at the absurdity of what was happening, she struggled to stifle a threatening smile.  


"Unfortunate. It would have been convenient for both of us if you could simply breathe properly."

His absurd instructions shattered the tension and Inoue pushed her fingers to her pursed lips.  
And then, something broke out of her and she bubbled with a short laugh, eyes crinkling to duck discreetly from his even stare.  
It was a sound he had never heard her make. 

Ulquiorra pulled away, watching her.  
Temporarily forgetting, that he felt as if he were in the throes of choking.  


There was something very wrong.  


\---

The sun had started to rise, and the rays crept across the floor of the room, onto that single futon where the unconscious girl with the orange hair, lay. 

Urahara was in one corner drinking his tea, typing single-handedly over the clunky Shinigami computer he had brought with him from Soul Society. Encrypted characters rushed across the screen and his golden eyes flew over them, absorbing the data. 

A flicker brushed across his subconscious and he raised his head, looking the unconscious girl over.  
The flickering along his mind increased into a steadily pulsating hum, and he settled back with a small smile, watching Inoue in her slumber.  
The other woman with purple hair lying beside him suddenly drew a waking breath.  
She shifted, pressing a sun-kissed hand to her eyes and yawning with a stretch. "Good morning..." She squinted.  
"Good morning." Urahara greeted back with a warm smile.

"Oh...? Looks like Orihime's Reiatsu is recovering, huh." Yoruichi murmured sleepily, voice hoarse and unused.  
"Finally." She groaned and sat up, popping one stiff shoulder with a raise of an arm.  
"Mmmm, definitely had us worried there for a while." Urahara murmured, distractedly running another file on his machine.  
"I was getting ready to prepare a '7 realms of Heaven' barrier around the house, in case Kurosaki-san would come running in."

Yoruichi looked at his familiar posture and gave him an amused lift of eyebrows before exhaling with a small smile. "You buffoon."

"I don't mind being one every now and then. That aside, there is something interesting I found after inspecting her with the spirit particle analyzer." He continued in a deceivingly light-hearted manner. Yoruichi pushed into a sit, blinking slowly. "Oh? What is it?"

"We seem to have missed sensing it previously because Inoue-san was completely conscious. But when her Reiatsu disappeared, it became very clear on the readings."  
Urahara angled the computer sideways with a hand, showing the data to Yoruichi.  


Her yellow eyes focused with a squint.  
"Another Reiatsu...?"  


"Yes..." Urahara sucked in a breath out of habit.  
"Only a trace. But it's there. And I suspect, that is what unlocked a new footage for us."

He hunched over and began typing again. 

"I've decided to call Kurosaki-san, Sado-san and Ishida-san over, so they can watch over her or bring her home if she wakes up. Nonetheless, we will have to tell them..." 

He looked at Yoruichi and quirked a smile.  
"After everything they've done for Soul Society and Karakura town, they deserve to know."

The girl continued to eye Urahara.  
"And how exactly are you gonna explain it to them? You'll never hear the end of it."

The man scrubbed at his stubbled chin and casually laughed.

"Which part? The part about us unknowingly putting Inoue's life at risk by draining her spiritual energy, or the idea that this other spiritual energy is telling us something impossible?"

Yoruichi rolled over and got up.  
"You tell me." She mumbled, exiting the room.  
"But if Ulquiorra is alive, Ichigo is gonna be the first one with a Zanpakutou to his neck." She thumped off down the hallway, sheet around her, loose hair swinging.  
"Oi, Tessai-san! I want what he's drinking."

Urahara sighed and picked up his phone.

\---

Inoue floated along the abyss.  
It was an endless void, with only that very minute speck in front of her.  
She never took her eyes off it. 

_"Where is your bed?"_  
_"I do not have one."_  
_"... Do you sleep?"_  
_"Yes."_  
_"Where?"_

The speck was growing, gradually.  
That beautiful shade of ivory.  
She knew that shade of ivory.

It began to grow jagged edges,  
Some areas slicing out into the void,  
It began to part,  
And then it was thickening and spreading out over the horizon. 

Beautiful, crystal white trees.  
Bare but clustered together like a thicket.  
Their horned limbs rose to the Hueco Mundo sky, tracing the glow of the moon.

_"... Here."_  
_"Here? With the trees?"_

_"Here. I belong here."_

And then Inoue saw it.  
That white alabaster figure with taut limbs, buried within the shrubbery.  
Its arms stretched out, pushing into the branches around it.  
It wore a Hollow mask, like a medieval shield with those unmistakable horns.  
And there were the marks.  
Those slashed tear tracks running thin and even down to its cheeks.

_Ulquiorra..._

Inoue felt a heavy sadness weigh down over her as her feet touched the sand.  
She watched the creature turn to the side, pushing closer into the nearest tree, embracing it to its emaciated body.

She stood there, by the thicket, watching the Hollow as it lay, motionless with its eyes closed.  
The winds conjured sand, and the grains brushed past her, smattering into her hair and striking her cheeks.  
Inoue squinted against the painful granules, struggling to keep the creature in her sights.  
Something dark trickled from its elbow as it dug deeper into the trunk it clutched.  


"Ulquiorra..." She called, eyebrows pushing up in distress.  
"... You're bleeding."  


"Go away." His voice whispered in her mind.  
"Please listen..." She begged gently.  
The creature remained motionless, and the crystal trees began to sway with the tides of a conjured sandstorm, striking their sharp points at its delicate-looking skin.  
"You're hurt!" Inoue shouted, the winds were gradually picking up and she clutched at her dress, leaning against the pushing torrent.  


"Go away..." came the fading murmur. "I am nothing."  


"That's not true..." She whispered. Her heart clenched painfully, seeing more scratches and punctures break into the Hollow's skin.  
"Please..." She couldn't stand the sight, seeing more trickles of blood running along his shoulders and torso.  
"Ulquiorra, please... let me help you." She cried out harshly, choking on her words.  


Inoue saw the jagged branches merging into blurs and she realized her tears were brimming, obscuring her vision.  
His despair was so palpable it squeezed at her throat.  
His need to disappear.  
How much he wanted to disappear.  
She felt the very brunt of it and it made her drop to her knees, weak.  


No, she didn't want it.  
She didn't want to lose him.  
The wind seemed to hear her thoughts and it howled, rising and picking up,  
Until the tops of the hills of sand began to disperse, and the branches of crystal began to chink and crack.  


"Everyone...!" Inoue's voice trembled from the exertion on her throat.  
She blinked and her tears finally fell, slashing dark streaks down her own cheeks.  
Sand clung to the wetness and she narrowed her stinging eyes.  
"Everyone who is born... is worth something, Ulquiorra!"  


The creature didn't respond. But the branches were cracking, tips breaking off and flinging every which way,  
The storm whipped violently, until whole trunks began to splinter, flinging the Hollow on to another tree, impaling it.

"Ulquiorra!" She cried out against the howling blast.  
"You are worth something!"  
A large branch shot forward, lampooning into one side of the creature's face, cracking one side of its mask.  
Inoue's eyes widened and she let out a sharp cry.  


From under the cracked mask, those eyes opened slowly.  
Clear, emerald eyes, more beautiful than anything the bleak Hueco Mundo had, reflecting the stark white glistening around him. 

And then it finally looked at her.  
"Please..." She whimpered, hands grasping into the sand, the wind pushing her quivering body down.  
She snatched her head up and shouted - **"You... are worth something to me!"**  


Inoue tried to get up, but her leg sank into the sand.  
She struggled, and it pulled her in even deeper.  


"I don't..." The low voice said in her mind.  
A voice that had grown weak and tired of holding on.  
"... I don't want to _be_ something."  
Those beautiful emerald eyes lowered, half-mast.  


Inoue jerked with a sob, shoulders sagging as she began to sink.  
The winds rained down on her, and she struggled on a crawl,  
Her face pressed, spent, against the ground.  
The thickness smothered her.  


And she cried.  
Though her tears were not for herself.  


But for him.  


\---

In the home behind his shop.  
In that room.  
Urahara sat, motionless and staring, the phone in his hand half-raised.  
His attention was focused on Inoue Orihime.  
Eyes sharp and on alert, as the hairs on his neck ghosted with prickling energy.  
It was hers, to be sure, but _it ___was there too.  
Something else, mingling with hers, making it different.  


It was deceptive, because on the futon - was only an innocent scene.  
The girl was still lying, peacefully asleep and almost blissful, amids the curls of green.  


Urahara lowered the phone, eyes narrowing.  
The hair clips pinned to her beautiful ginger locks had begun to glow.  
Even if Inoue Orihime remained completely unaware.  
\---


	9. Espada Quarters: Ulquiorra's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Again, came faster than expected!  
> Please enjoy!  
> Strong Ulqhime in this one.  
> And I hope it was worth it somehow.
> 
>  
> 
> If you have anything to say, let me know.  
> Or as usual, kudos will make my day. :3
> 
> -Second_Best

Ulquiorra had impressive observational and analytical abilities -  
A result of having the world mirrored and measured only through his sense of sight. 

Thus in the days that followed her capture, Ulquiorra had prodded at the girl with scathing remarks.  
Dangled important information and gauged her physical response.  
He had memorized her various facial expressions, and had assigned certain body language to her current mood and thoughts.  
He learned all there was to her with his eyes, and in his mind he had constructed her impeccable blueprint.

It was because of this, that the subtle changes in her behavior had not slipped past him.  
Her impeccable blueprint was being altered, and he had grown aware...

Something was wrong.

At first, Ulquiorra had only suspected they were remnants of her flaring temper before the 8th Espada's laboratory tests.  
That anger in itself was not surprising.  
It had driven her twice to lash out.  
And once, to successfully slap him. 

But as they re-entered his lair, he realized it was something different.  
The girl became entirely too skittish.  
Her behavior and reaction to every little thing was noticeably amplified.  
And that thing in her chest, pounding away at the walls of his mind when he was only used to silence, was pumping too fast and strong for his liking. 

He was aware of the existence of human biology.  
It was a common and idiotic misconception to think he didn't believe organs were there, simply because he couldn't see them under the flesh. 

The truth was only this: They were not relevant, because they could not be seen.

But the moment he shattered the golden bracelet, it had bound them both.  
Monitoring her physical condition had linked their bodies and Reiatsu in a way he had not been expecting:  
He had begun to feel. 

And then, the things that did not matter - began to matter.

_Something I cannot see is happening to my captive._

He closed his eyes.  
Focused.

He had never bothered with it, but he was breathing.  
Breathing much too hard and growing hot under his skin.  
The heat crept up his body, stifling him until he had trouble breathing at all. 

And as this happened, he began to grow suspicious...

Ulquiorra knew her Reiatsu almost as intimately as his own.  
He'd touched the ground in the human realm where she'd used her abilities in front of Yammy.  
He had analyzed it bit by bit, tearing the particles apart with his mind and hands before reporting back to Lord Aizen and forging that bracelet specifically unique to her. 

Touching her chest through her garments had not confirmed it...  
But touching the bare flesh on her neck had.  
He listened with half a mind as the girl had prattled on about a 'pulse' and 'artery,' things he obviously were well-aware of in the instances he made swift kills.  
But he needed only to confirm that what he'd detected was something foreign that she remained completely unaware of...  


_Szayel Aporro Granz..._  
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed.  
_You are a fool to mess with my captive._

\---

"There is an urgent matter I must attend to. And though I had not anticipated this happening, I will bring you to my room, because out here I cannot guarantee your safety from the Adjuchas who serve me."  
Ulquiorra gave her a lingering look.  
And then he'd turned around.

"Follow me closely." 

The girl blinked several times, cheeks completely flushed and shaken from the earlier ordeal.  
"Oh. Ah, wait... Isn't this your room?"

The man simply gestured forward, pushing a stone that sank into the wall.  
And Inoue realized as the cobblestone rumbled sideways, that there was another passage that tunneled deep into the heart of Las Noches, darker than before. 

In fact, it was completely devoid of light. 

_"I was born in the dark."_  
His voice whispered in her mind. 

And though her fear was slowly overriding her, she swallowed and followed right behind him.

-

The girl focused hard, listening to his steady, sure-footed steps.  
But that wasn't enough in this darkness.  
Her human eyes couldn't see a thing.  
She bumped her nose into his back for the fifth time and abruptly stopped.  
Again the heat came, stinging her cheeks and flaring across her neck.  
She recoiled, embarrassed. 

"I'm sorry." She gasped, lowering her face and cringing.

There was no response from Ulquiorra.  
He seemed to pause.  
And then Inoue found herself focusing on the one thing she could see:  
A red glow that flickered somewhere in front of her.  
It rose, the brightness illuminating his Arrancar coat.  
Ulquiorra held up his palm, fusing what Inoue now realized was a Bala that he maintained un-formed.

They continued on -  
The Arrancar silent and the girl straining to stifle her harsh breathing. 

Inoue felt like she was on a perpetual adrenaline rush, ready to jump right out of her quivering skin.  
The constant pound had begun to make her head hurt and she felt the onsets of a slight migraine squeezing into the back of her head.  
Sweat began trickling down her back inside her dress.  
And she walked, hands cold and clammy, clutching at her skirt.

The feeling only seemed to be getting worse.  
She couldn't keep holding it in, even if she didn't want him to worry.  
She needed to tell him. 

She must be sick. 

"Ulquiorra... I... feel..." Her voice was shaking uncontrollably.  
She swallowed, throat dry.  
"- I know." He confirmed softly.  
Inoue was about to respond, but her eyes spotted something against the wall -  
A shadow that seemed to fly towards her. 

She gasped, wedging herself beside him and the opposite wall, eyes wide.  
In casting another glance around, Inoue began to see different dark forms lift from the stone cracks, and her heart thrashed more madly than before. 

Her rational mind reminded her that she'd seen much more frightening things. 

_I shouldn't be so scared._  
_I shouldn't be feeling like this._  
_Something is wrong with me..._

She trembled, feeling the urge to cower.  
A dark bat with glowing red eyes shot towards her face.  
And before her mind could have a chance to coherently usher a response, the girl had crushed herself against his side, instinctively wanting to hide.  
In her mind, Ulquiorra had morphed into a solid edifice, barring her against attack. 

"Those, what are those..." She whispered frantically. "The things on the wall... "  
Her nose pressed against his sleeve and the Arrancar reached out to pull her face back.  
She flinched.  
In the dark, he watched the delirious flitting of her irises as her stare flew from one side of him to the other. 

But Ulquiorra knew, because he traversed this space everyday, there was nothing really there. 

The Arrancar's eyes hardened in a sudden wave of anger that briefly confused him.  
And then he exhaled sharply, grabbing her arm with his free hand, pulling her in front of his chest despite her yelping objections.  
He continued their walk, half dragging her protesting form.  
Another meter and he'd tugged her to a stop.  
Letting the Bala die down, he reached out, pushing his palm against the flat surface.  
And then Inoue was recoiling from a large vertical crack that grew.  
Alabaster doors that opened to a startling flood of blinding, white light.  
The girl's mind garbled its relay of rational information and Inoue saw Kurosaki Ichigo's Getsuga Tenshou hurtling towards her.  
"Wait!!!" She suddenly screamed, leaping with a jerk, knocking against the side of the Arrancar's boney helm. 

"Woman." came the grating response.  
Another cry and she'd flung her arm sideways, snagging at his horn. 

Ulquiorra grabbed her effortlessly around the waist, lifting her struggling form away from his face and flinging her into the space with a casual toss.  
She landed roughly on her feet with a cry, stumbling forward before buckling under shaking knees and crumpling sideways on to soft sand.

Inoue lowered her wild eyes, fumbling, staring at the sand between her fingers, grasping at the powdery texture as her eyes adjusted.  
But what caught her attention now wasn't the sand.  
It was the color of the skin around her hand.  
She stilled momentarily as things focused.  
A dark purple ghosted along her knuckles and wrapped around the first appendages of her fingers.  
The coherence rushed back and she looked up at him, a fresh urge of anxiety causing her to pant.  
Ulquiorra's green stare was focused on it too. 

"What's happening to me, Ulquiorra?" The girl asked, throat tightening. 

The Arrancar stood there mutely studying it with transfixed, wide eyes.  
And then he lowered, fingers clutching at the long sleeve of her garment.  
Inoue gasped as Ulquiorra ripped it down the center and tore the sleeve off her, keenly studying her bare arm.  
It was only a smooth, even tone.  
His eyes wandered down to the marks on her fingers and narrowed.  
He rose and scooped her up by the waist again, more carefully this time, steadily walking towards the center of the room.

It was smaller than the hall outside with the grand chandelier, and smaller than his study.  
Looking around as she hung from his arm, Inoue could see nothing but sand over the floors.  
She lifted her head and spotted the only other thing in the room:  
A small cluster of crystal trees that formed a circular patch of shrubbery. 

He set her down in front of it.  
And then he lowered to a crouch, ensuring she caught his eyes.  
"I do not want to put you in worse physical condition, for both our sakes." He finally said.  
"You should not worry about it. Try to control it."  
"I'm not myself..." Inoue fought against the tremors.  
"I will take care of this." 

Her eyes rose, meeting with his mute stare.  
And in the back of her mind, an image of Kurosaki-kun's confident smile lingered and he repeated the same words, voicelessly.  
As if the visuals and sound weren't synched properly.  
His face swam before her eyes, merging blearily with that alabaster skin. 

Inoue felt a momentary calm ease through her and her shoulders visibly loosened.  
One of her hands rose, pressing against her chest in reassurance.  
And then the orange hair had dissipated and the girl found herself studying raven locks and that placid stare. 

"Ulquiorra..." She whimpered, confused. 

"Stay here. Do not move. Do not open the door."  
His fingers lightly touched her shoulder, pushing her back onto a sit.  
"That is an order." The Cuatro said in soft command.  
And then he'd lifted himself and walked to the doors, closing them behind him. 

\----

Ulquiorra slammed the door to his chambers with more weight than intended and the sound echoed down the narrow hallway as he walked. 

He disliked this situation.  
He disliked the lack of control.  
His fingers slipped over the top of his fastened coat and he gripped at his chest as he heaved one breath after another. 

An image of Szayel Aporro lifting the girl's hand to his mouth in a theatrical kiss of greeting flashed through his mind and his jaws tightened with silent frustration.

-

"Yo! Ulquiorra." A rough snarl erupted from behind the Cuatro.  


"Elevator shoot your skinny-ass down the hatch a little too fast?" It bit out menacingly.  
"...If you didn't always wear such a bitch-face, I'd start to think you were constipated!"  
A taunting laugh erupted as it got closer.

The Cuatro didn't bother turning to the source of the sound, proceeding through the hall without breaking his stride.  
"Y'know, I should be the one tearing your ass apart right now." The derisive voice pulled in sharply beside his ear.  


"Sending me on a 45 minute walk because of your fucking floor plan modifications."  
That feral Reiatsu shoved invisibly at Ulquiorra's back.  
"You're lucky I didn't punch a hole into your little beachy bat-cave to dump all the vermin I picked up along the way."  


Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes, feeling a foreign eruption of anger seizing his muscles, causing his hands to ball into his pockets.  
His pale jaw tightened and he continued, refusing to address the presence beside him.  
"You fucking listening...?" The sharp voice prodded.  
"Or do I need to punch a hole through your ears too, Cuatro."  


At that, the man abruptly blocked his path and Ulquiorra finally stopped with an impatient bristle, raising his eyes dangerously slow to look Grimmjow in the face.  
The Sexta almost shook with delight at the terrifying weight in those sharpening pupils.  
"Out of my way." The Cuatro murmured darkly.

The man seemed to enjoy the fiery provocation lacing his whispered tone. 

"Heh..." Grimmjow smirked almost lustfully, soaking in the waves of malice from the smaller man.  
"So you _can_ be angry after all."  
His toothy grin erupted as he levelled his face, a single lock of blue slipping across his forehead.  
"What's the matter? I don't see your precious princess, Ulquiorra." Came the slow grate.  
His face followed Ulquiorra's as the latter side-stepped him and pressed on.  


"You have your arm back, and you have restored your position as the Sixth Espada. You no longer have to concern yourself with her whereabouts."  
Ulquiorra pointedly said.

A force grabbed at his shoulder and the Cuatro stopped again, his glare lowering to the tightening fingers threatening to break his collar.  
He felt another wave eroding his precarious tolerance.  
He had no time for this petty exchange.  


"Y'know..." Grimmjow's icy-blue eyes narrowed,  
"- Just like the top-boss, I have my own version of luring with bait."  
Ulquiorra eyed the bared incisors of the Sexta's Hollow jaw.  
"What do you mean?" He asked, tone precariously at breaking point.  
"Since you can't do a fucking kill properly, why don't you let me borrow her pretty ass and you can watch..." The Sixth Espada casually sneered.  
"If I dangle that woman's carcass in front of Kurosaki Ichigo,"  
His grin stretched with a snarl - "It'll be a fight to remember."  
And then he leaned in to Ulquiorra's ear, enough that the Cuatro's jaw tightened from the unwarranted proximity.  
"I'm not playin' into your servant game, I already know you're the top dog's personal _bitch._ " His sharp cerulean eyes flashed.  


There was a quarter second that Ulquiorra's pupils fastened onto that steel jaw...  
And then an overwhelming slam of green Reiatsu pressed down like deep sea pressure on the Sexta, almost cracking the floors with the brunt and paralyzing him.  
The Cuatro twisted himself from the grip, coat slapping against Grimmjow's chest before he whirled, flinging the blue-haired Hollow backwards with a lethal shove of his palm.  
The taller man let out a choke, skidding from the force before a blur of white caught his eyes and an elbow emerged, slamming down over the fleshy side of his jaw and smashing him sideways into the ground faster than he could anticipate.  
The little fucker!  
Grimmjow hurled his torso off the floor with a rough growl, crouched on all fours now as his fingers pushed into the cracks in the marble.  
"Raaaah, Ulquiorraaaa, you fucking-!"  
"Enough, Grimmjow." Came the Cuatro's slightly raised tone.  
The Sexta narrowed his eyes, spitting bloody viscosity at the cracked tile to release his disdain for the Cuatro.  
"Tche. That little virgin mary is an opportunity and you don't know two shits about how to use her." He squinted, lifting his chin, meeting with that icy composure.

"Your reasons to pursue a personal vendetta are distasteful to me. And I have no time to entertain you."  
The Cuatro's reptilian eyes bore down on him with a threatening pressure building down on the Sexta's Hierro, crushing his bulking muscles.  
A flash of hesitation came over Grimmjow's face and then he settled with a subdued glare.  
Ulquiorra watched him for another two counts before releasing the brunt of Reiatsu.  
He slipped his hand back into his pocket and stepped away.  
"... You have a stick up your ass, Ulquiorra." The panther gnashed his teeth with a grunt, getting up. 

"I know where to find her," He slurred, wiping at his jaw.  
"I'll mop her blood all over your little cave!" came the taunting growl. 

But Ulquiorra was already walking away.  
Unknowingly letting a substantial amount of heavy Reiatsu seep out of him. 

\--

Szayel was fastening the last buttons on his coat when he heard the sudden explosion of something large breaking through solid wall.  
He looked up in time to see one of his round assistants, Lumina, smash into the hallway and bounce across the floor with grunts of panic and flailing.  
"Please... Ul-.... Ulquiorra-sama!!!" The bloated creature cried out.  
And then his eyes widened before he shrank.  
"Eeeeeee-" He gave a throaty squeak, backtracking with a shuffle into the wall, terrified. 

Szayel straightened, watching the shadow of the Cuatro Espada slant across the corridor before the Arrancar emerged, stepping over the rubble.  
His amber eyes widened and he recoiled as the brunt of thick Reiatsu slammed into him.  
Ulquiorra directed a hard glare at him and continued his slow walk. 

"What do you think you're doing!?" Szayel spat out, brushing his momentary surprise aside.  
"That should be my question." The Cuatro stated flatly.  
He came to a stop a few meters away.  
"Your Reiatsu was all over her skin." His slit-pupils focused, threateningly. 

"What did you do to the girl?"  


Szayel's expression changed at the question.  
"Oh...?" Szayel's face broke with a malicious smile.  
"What indeed!"  
And then the 8th Espada tossed his head back and howled a maddening laugh at the rafters.

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes.  
And in a blink, he'd shot across the room and grabbed the side of Szayel Aporro's face.  
The scientist let out a startled cry, limbs flapping, before Ulquiorra smashed him down into the table with monitors.  
"Auk-... Ulquiorra, what-" Szayel choked, "You... crazy-" The man grunted, fighting with his arms braced against the surface as the pale arm forced him down with another smash. The steel protested, groaning against the weight.  
"I will not ask again." The Cuatro pushed, eyes growing wider.  
"Now..." He trailed off.  
His hand squeezed.  
Szayel let out a startled wail as the cartilage of his nose cracked under the grip of the Espada's pale fingers, the frame of his broken glasses digging into the skin below his eyes.  
"- Answer." Ulquiorra demanded in a low voice, pushing even more until the counter sank with a crunch, and Szayel's cheek had impressed itself on it.  
He panted and then stilled.  
Ulquiorra's heavy breathing filled in the silence. 

"... You've gotten blood on my outfit. I'll have to dress again." came the stubborn grunt below him. 

Ulquiorra's Reiatsu flared and the Cuatro rubbed that face down, smearing it over the nearest keyboard before hurling his whole body well across the counter, shattering monitors and sending equipment to the concrete floor.  
Szayel slammed into a stop against the file cabinet at the end of the long table.  
He groaned, pushing himself off and stumbling to the ground, clutching the fractured cheek that broke through his skin.  
And then the Cuatro was already behind him, yanking back a fistful of luxurious, pink hair.  
Ulquiorra retracted for more leverage, ready to impale Szayel's forehead against the sharp edge of the table.  
The Arrancar's arms shot up and he shouted through blood and spittle, "Okay, that's enough. I'll tell you! You fucking lunatic!"  
The green-eyed Espada loosened his grip, imperceptibly.  
And the beaten Hollow took the pardon and launched into rapid explanation.  
"It's a parasitic fluid... administered through bodily contact... and activated through brain manipulation." He struggled with an arm to the table as the 4th clenched at his hair. 

Again, an image of the 8th Espada graciously kissing at her hand and then eagerly putting the headset on his captive flashed through his mind. 

Ulquiorra released him with a grunting push.  
And as the sub-ranker wheezed, clutching at his coat and face, the Cuatro stepped back, suddenly still.  
Surprised at the uncharacteristic way he'd let the anger driven him.  
His pupils had squeezed into tense slits and he closed his eyes, realizing that he was breathing hard. 

"Such unexpected temper, Ulquiorra-sama."  
The scientist seemed to notice his withdrawal and fight for control.  
He coughed a chuckle, pinching at his bleeding nose.  
"Seems, it has affected you too. Though, I didn't expect you to realize I'd done something so soon."  
Despite the assault, Szayel gave a dizzy smirk.  
"Who would have imagined such interesting effects from an Arrancar binding his Reiatsu to a human."

"If she dies, you will die by my hand." The Cuatro whispered.  
"Ulquiorra-sama..." Szayel raised himself with a sigh, wincing slightly. "Relax, it is only temporary."  
"I gave you no permission to do whatever you wished with her." Ulquiorra countered with harsh breath.  
"Indeed, you have not!" The man on the floor acknowledged grandly. 

"Only..." His voice dwindled to a steady murmur  
"Lord Aizen _has_."

The Cuatro's green stare widened a fraction, hearing this. 

"In fact, he said I could 'do whatever I wanted so long as her body and mind remains intact and alive.'"  
Szayel rose to his feet, with a slight teeter.  
"Aren't you even the least bit curious?" His sly gaze studied Ulquiorra.  
"I hear, they exhibit very interesting behavior when they are... delusional."

Ulquiorra's look darkened and he straightened, mind dissecting all the ways delusions could shatter his careful control of his captive. 

Szayel studied the blood on his sleeve.  
"For example, if she is to see her caretaker as someone else..."  
His amber eyes squinted. "Someone dear to her."  
Ulquiorra thought back to her final twelve hours of goodbye.  
To the last place she had gone, and left evidence for Soul Society. 

"... Kurosaki Ichigo." The Cuatro whispered. 

"Yes..." Szayel broke away slightly with a wince before looking up at him through a swelling cheek.  
"Imagine how much information one could get from a single conversation. About Soul Society, about how she attained her power from the Hogokyu, about her friends' abilities..."  
Ulquiorra watched him turn, a grin distorting his crooked, broken features even more.  
"This is all for Lord Aizen, you know." He whispered, theatrically patriotic. 

And then he had swiveled with a limp, taking a step away.  
"Now if you'll excuse me," He muttered dismissively with a wave of hand.  
"I would like to change out of such unacceptable clothes-"

Ulquiorra straightened, and his eyebrows lowered almost menacingly.  
There was nothing he hated more than a selfish fool corrupting a flawless mission.  
_His_ flawless mission. 

Szayel abruptly stopped, feeling Ulquiorra's finger digging into his lower back.  
"What is it no-"  
"- Her demeanor is crucial to keeping her condition stable, and keeping her contained. Remove it. It is not a request."

"Ah!" The pink-haired Arrancar sighed without turning.  
"Well, it's too late, once administered, I cannot undo it. There was never a need for an antidote with my test subjects. I simply watched them squirm and suffer."  
Szayel flinched discreetly at the menacing power flaming from his assailant.  
"However..." He quickly chased.  
"However?" Ulquiorra's low voice repeated.  
"There is a way you can transfer the parasitic fluid, on to another host."  
Szayel's gaze considered him over one shoulder.  
"And it seems you've already started." 

"My patience is wearing thin. Get to the point." The Cuatro vehemently murmured.  
"You've touched her and absorbed some of the poison. You feel it... don't you?" The broken Hollow asked.  
Ulquiorra didn't affirm anything, only pushed his finger more threateningly against the man's spine.  
"There is a mark that stays, as a sign it is in effect. Once it's gone, you'll have transferred it to yourself completely. Now, _this_..."  
The green-eyed Arrancar gave a look of disdain at the sudden bubble of laughter from the scientist.  
"This is even more interesting! To see how you deal with it... Ulquiorra- _sama_." 

The man stepped away from the finger, testily.  
And the Cuatro didn't move. 

"Of course, that is your choice." Szayel continued, sensing a decline in hostility.  
"Technically, you can simply watch her ride it out and it will spare us Espada the trouble."

Szayel limped off, the blood trickling down his coat.

And Ulquiorra stood for a moment, feeling the ragged breaths take him again, very abruptly this time.  
And then he felt something odd squeeze at his throat, and instinctively knew...  
Something was happening to his captive. 

With an ejection of breath, Ulquiorra lowered his stare, forcing control over his Reiatsu before it attracted any more unwanted attention from the other Espada. 

And then he turned away to walk back to his quarters. 

\----

"Inoue!!!" 

Urahara Kisuke lifted his head slightly, hearing the orange-haired man's roar and the thumping, heavy footsteps coming closer.  
He closed his eyes and winced to himself.  
"Ah, here we go."

Ichigo flung the wooden door of the room open with wide eyes.  
"What happened?" He ground out, lingering suddenly at the doorway, frozen. 

Urahara gave him a small smile and waved him in with his paper fan. 

"Ah, Kurosaki-san! The good news is that she's okay. We will just need to wait for her to wake up."  
"Inoue..." The substitute shinigami stepped in, seeing her peacefully asleep.  
As always, his empathic heart closed over the fact she seemed to be okay.  
And it stilled him as he knelt by her side.  
Ishida appeared at the doorframe with more dignity, observing the scene before he closed his eyes in relief, entering with a sigh.  
Chad followed wordlessly, expression unreadable from behind the mop of brown bangs. 

The Quincy was the first one to notice it. 

His eyes sharpened as he mutely considered the glowing hairclips.  
"Urahara-san, what's happening to Inoue's Shun-Shun Rikka?"  
Ichigo quickly turned to it, golden eyes alert.  
"Ahhhhh, about that..." The man in the green robe inhaled, studying the ceiling.  
"Actually," He slapped the fan lightly against his nose.  
"I must start at the beginning."

-

There was a silence as the scrawny, timid girl lowered to serve their tea.  
"Please." She whispered, taking each steaming bamboo cup and placing it in front of each guest.

"Thank you, Ururu." Ichigo mumbled, giving the shop owner a stony glance before sipping.  
Chad sat, unmoving and silent as a rock as the girl left the room.  
"Are you sure Ulquiorra could be alive?" The handsome shinigami asked in a hardened tone.  
"It almost seems impossible. I very clearly saw him disintegrate above Las Noches." Ishida refuted beside him, pushing at his glasses in thought. 

Urahara settled back, sipping idly at his tea, before setting the cup down and considering them.  
"I have no other reason to suspect he is, only that his Reiatsu remains with Inoue-san. And that is a sign he is not entirely lost." He articulated softly.

Since their return from Soul Society, the ex-captain had taken to trusting them entirely with information he normally wouldn't divulge prior to the happenings of Hueco Mundo.  
He'd learned that Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends were capable and mature enough to handle half-baked theories.  
Only...

The orange-haired bankai user rose with a shadowed glare.  
"Once Inoue wakes up, she can tell us what she knows and I'll hunt him down, even if it takes everything I have to kill him again."  
It was that unmoving, predatory focus overtaking the boy. 

Urahara sighed.  
\- It was a little hard stifling Kurosaki Ichigo once his emotions had him. 

"But there is still the issue of the hairclips." The Quincy stated slowly.  
His eyebrows furrowed.  
"... Why do you think this is happening? Inoue needs to be conscious to activate Shun-Shun Rikka." The dark-haired archer pointed out. 

"Mm..." Urahara started, with a scrub of his chin, "-normally that _would_ be the case, wouldn't it. Only..."

Everyone sent him a look. 

"- If you remember, when Sado-san and Inoue-san first awakened their powers from the Hogokyu... It was the will of their souls to protect the people around them that formed and powered their abilities. It seems Inoue-san has learned to control her abilities with the will of her soul more than her mind. This could result to her activating her power, unknowingly, when her soul is placed under severe pressure."

As usual, Uryuu Ishida was the fastest to pick-up the implication.  
"In an unconscious state with an active mind... Are you saying that certain dreams can trigger her usage of her power, as well?" His onyx eyes narrowed.

"Mm- it's worth considering isn't it?" The shop-keeper started.  
"Not just any dream, but a dream that resounds strongly with the will of her soul."

The room was silent, and then Kurosaki Ichigo had recoiled with a thump and a frustrated sigh.  
He pushed his hand to the back of his spiked locks and clenched.  
"I don't understand it very well..." He ventured in a low voice, eyebrows clashing.  
"But if something bothers Inoue that much, I'll help her get past it." 

Chad merely nodded and lowered his gaze to her unconscious form.  
"I would do anything to help as well."  
Ishida closed his eyes. "Obviously, we all would."

Urahara looked at them, and then he broke into a smile, pulling down at his hat.

"So, everyone!" The shop-keeper surprised them, breaking the heavy silence by clapping his hands.  
"Let's just patiently wait for her to wake up."  
He tilted, with a gentle look.  
"It won't be long now, I think. Now that you're all here."

\----

The alabaster doors opened, and the Cuatro Espada strode in.  
His eyes only momentarily widening with surprise, seeing his captive's sprawled form slumped across the sand.  
Exactly in the place he'd left her.  
She was in a precarious condition, her auburn locks strewn like unfurling ripples around her fallen body,  
Seemingly almost unconscious and fading, squeezing out her strangled breaths against the powdery sand. 

He felt that invisible force constricting his throat and his eyes hardened as he unzipped the top of his coat, loosening it until it exposed the hole between his collars. 

He strode forward slowly, lowering beside her form.  
His coat spread out, rustling at the sand as his sandaled feet sank beside her.  
At the sound, the girl stirred and slowly opened her eyes, looking at him.  
There was a momentary relief at the visual response, and the Arrancar considered her steadily.  
The girl must be tired, having gone through an excessive and constant push of adrenaline for such a suspended period of time.  
Her body had most likely reached its physical limit. 

"... I failed to protect you." He suddenly stated after a brief silence. 

Inoue's gray eyes softened.  
"No..." She said with a weak shake of head. 

Ulquiorra's stare shifted sideways, watching, as she raised her hand.  
He studied the purple mark on that arm and noted that it had advanced, like patches of bruising streaking along her knuckles and tapering over her fingers, blooming like clots under the skin and covering her forearm. 

And then, he watched her lower her hand, resting it right above his.

"Don't say that." She whispered, shaking suddenly with a brief chill.  
"If you're here now, you didn't fail at all." 

He sat there watching her fingers intertwine over the gaps of his knuckles, tracing almost reverently over the crevices.  
Ulquiorra was aware of what her touch on him was doing, though he remained motionless, eyes studying her gentle fingers, flitting over his skin. 

"I'm sorry..." She whispered again, and he looked up at her face.  
Her eyes began to glisten with what he recognized were brimming tears.  
"For what?" The Arrancar asked, eyes merely discerning. 

She smiled almost apologetically. "For not telling you how I felt..."  
"How you felt..." He repeated, mind analyzing. 

"That night." Her hands squeezed gently over his as if to remind him.  
Ulquiorra felt a coldness creeping up his fingers and glanced down as the purple marks on her receded very slightly, fading from the tops of her forearms where they met her elbow.  
And then he began to notice, the darkening blotch of it spreading along his forefinger.  
It had worked. And the poison was making its transfer. 

He exhaled a scoff.  
It really was a bother, taking care of a captive.  
On his walk back, he had pondered how to go about solving this based on the 8th Espada's ramblings.  
Strapping her down and leaving her to fight the uncontrollable spikes of her mind until the effects had completely gone, all whilst he carefully watched over her...  
\- That was the method he had settled with. 

He observed the blooms rising to his wrists, and his green gaze lowered half-mast.  
Perhaps, he had wanted to allow it after all.  
His own self-punishment for his failure. 

"When I saw you, your eyes were closed..."  
Ulquiorra flickered, green gaze mutely meeting hers.  
And then the girl had broken the stare, pressing her head into the space below his chest.  
She closed her eyes slowly, moistness trembling before it spilled over her cheeks.  
"I wanted to tell you, so badly..." She murmured into his stomach with a quiet sob. 

He felt his breaths stagger.  
Ulquiorra closed his eyes, dark lashes lowering.  
And he focused, feeling the rising in's and out's and seeing flashes of quarts trees swaying in his mind, blackened creatures with glowing eyes, and their endless sounds of chewing. 

And her face, that look of concentration as the golden glow closed between them. 

His eyebrows furrowed, almost hearing the thumps of her pulse push against his eardrums.  
And the poison continued its transfer, ghosting up his wrist. 

_If these things come with being human, then I would think it makes them weak_.  
_To have such uncalled-for responses_.  
_Meaningless..._ _Meaningless responses._

She lifted her head, looking at him then.  
"Thank you, for taking care of me and protecting me all this time. I've been so weak."  
Ulquiorra's eyes opened, struggling against blurring flutters of roaring Hollows and shimmering thorns, and he focused on her wordlessly.

She broke into a smile he concluded was beautiful, in the way things aesthetically were.  


... "Thank you, for rescuing me..."  


His stare lowered with sudden understanding.  
"- Kurosaki-kun."  
The Espada didn't even flinch when his captive whispered the name.  


And then she was leaning up at him.  
Ulquiorra felt her squeeze harder at his hand.  
His palm prickled instinctively, rejecting her humanity.  
It really was easier to notice these things, when he didn't see them.  


_Szayel..._  
_You contemptible fool..._  
And the Cuatro closed his eyes at that, taking more of what was inside her.  
There was no stopping this now.  
He turned his hand, palm-up to meet solidly with hers.  
_I will crush you._  
His irritation soared and he locked their fingers almost harshly in disdain, urging the transfer faster.  
Clutching, as if wringing the poison out.  


"What I wanted to say... back then... "  
Her voice was fading behind the steady, heightening thrum of beating against his ears.  
"What I couldn't say to you..."  


He listened to it pulsing, as if it now came from his own veins.  


_It's called a 'Heart.'_  
Ulquiorra faintly remembered her words through the sudden rush of haziness that hit him like a disorienting wave.  
He swore quietly and his composure crumbled bit by bit with every dip of labored breath until he bowed into her, shuddering uncontrollably as the parasites finally assaulted his frontal lobe. 

"- I really.. do... love you."  


He barely heard the whisper, too distracted now...  
Because a startling warmth was flooding through him amidst the flashes of monstrous creatures and slow splashes of crimson shimmering in the air.  
A warmth that squeezed almost painfully at his chest, so much that for a moment, he felt the flesh around his hole almost bleeding and raw.  
What was it?  
He caught a glimpse of her teeth as they impressed themselves into the soft fleshiness of her pout.  
He struggled to discern it.  
Watching, as the cusped, pink swell began to part with a single whispered breath.  
Those slit pupils pulsed minutely, and then suddenly expanded much too large, engulfed with unseen apparitions.  
And then Inoue's lips lifted and pressed into his.  


His clear, emerald eyes continued to watch -  
... Seeing a vast, luminous expanse of crystal branches, reaching up to grasp at a dark Hueco Mundo sky.  


\---

And then it was over.  


Ulquiorra felt the warmth of her soft mouth leave him with a staggered breath.  
Her nose, pushing gently into his raven locks as she shuddered against him and began to slump against his cheek.  
And then her gray eyes had rolled up, disappearing into closing eyelids.  


Inoue went limp, on his chest.  


And Ulquiorra was left, conscious, dealing with the full effects of a raging delusion.  


For a moment, he saw shimmering orange snakes as they slithered down his body.  
_It's not real._  
Ulquiorra had never fought with himself this way before.  
Forcing himself to turn against his sight, the very thing he ever relied on.  
He snagged on a breath and shut his eyes clearing the image with impressive mental fortitude.  
And then he grasped at whatever was left of his rational mind, sending a glare down to his arm and ripping his coat's sleeve off with a fling.  


Ulquiorra pulled away from the girl, letting her slide off his lap until she was sprawled lifelessly into the sand.  
He began to quake, raising his head, seeing vivid slashes of light deflect off the trees behind her.  
_It's not real._  
He struggled to a slow stand, straightening.  


The world he recognized as his room flickered in and out.  
He caught a glance of the crystal trees, and they started to darken until shadows divided them.  
Glowing, slanted eyes flickered from the cracks.  
And then a Gillian broke out, shattering the trunk, roaring towards him.  
_It's not real._  
He turned away and walked, and kept walking keeping his eyes on his alabaster doors.  
He stopped a safe distance away from his captive and looked back at her, stepping as evenly as he could manage in his condition.  
But when he'd turned back around, he was facing the marble steps of Lord Aizen's throne.  
The Shinigami watched him from his seat with that subtle smile, and a hand pressed to his cheek.  
And then he disappeared.  
A fist plunged into his chest and Ulquiorra's eyes widened as he slid a leg backwards, bracing himself over sand.  
_Sand._  
Ulquiorra was breathing hard.  
_The Lair._  
_The girl._  
He stared down and found himself touching the fissures of his Hollow hole where the fist had been.  


Ulquiorra's eyes focused as he stumbled and finally straightened.  
One hand reached for his sword, and even as the hilt hissed and wrapped a glowing green around his wrist, he drew the blade, unflinchingly.  
Ulquiorra pushed his other arm out, eyeing the purple blooms as they rose slightly above his elbow.  
The bruises broke out of his skin, growing snarling faces that snapped.  
He ignored it and swiped his sword down, cutting neatly through his tissue and bone, severing the limb right above where the poison festered.  
His amputated arm dropped at his feet, spraying the pristine white sands with a shower of red.  
And then Ulquiorra dropped to one knee, heaving and waiting.  


Through the sounds of his harsh panting, his green irises focused on only one thing.  
Ulquiorra steadily watched her.  
His eyes never leaving her arm as the black vines of regeneration shot out of him, reforming his bones and ligaments.  
And then...  
Very slowly, his vision began to clear.  


\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS:  
> Szayel, you are a twisted sunuvabitch.  
> I didn't even expect him to have so much presence in the story.


	10. The Dome Above: Aizen's Headquarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Filled it in with more character interactions.  
> Finally hauled the Lord Aizen in.  
> More Grimmjow in his infernal pursuit for Ulquiorra's recognition. 
> 
> Pushing the plot very slowly.  
> Crushing Ulqhime fluff and replacing it with lots of bitter cold. (I'm sorry). 
> 
> Fleshing out Ulquiorra and Las Noches flashbacks. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments, much appreciated.  
> Thank you, thank you for reading. 
> 
> This chapter is the longest one I've done, and I have a feeling they're gonna stretch out even more in the future.  
> The plot might get messy with the timeline going back and forth, but I'll try to manage that properly. 
> 
> Thank you again. It means so much to have an audience. <3
> 
> \- Second_Best

She lay there with the side of her head pressed to the soft powdery sands, a cramp crippling her shoulder and her waist aching from being twisted. The blood flow to her arm was stifled from the prolonged period it had awkwardly been pinned under her chest.  
She couldn't feel her fingers at all.  
But she was barely aware of that. 

Her eyes were wide as saucers at the sight that greeted her upon the first stirrings of consciousness. But she remained unmoving, constricting her breaths, forcing herself to still the rising cadence of her heart in case he picked up on it again. 

If there was anything Inoue knew with certainty now about Ulquiorra...

It was that, as humanly regal as he _appeared_ to be, he still did not seem to comprehend the idea of human modesty. 

She watched, as the Arrancar moved across her line of vision with all the grace and composure of someone unabashedly confident in his display of nakedness. His supple form traversed the sand as if it had all the leisure to spare, those raven strands curling like feathered tips, under each ribbed outline of his helm.

Inoue had never seen a member of the opposite sex so pale or devoid of clothes. She had to convince herself over and over that he was deceiving her, because though he looked very much like a man in all the significant places, he was not. 

It was that unrestrained human curiosity that won out in the end.  
He projected the confidence, and she willingly bit into it, her eyes a torn flickering of hesitance and boldness, unable to look away from the sinews of his attractive form. 

During her first encounter with the Espada in the Human Realm, Ulquiorra was dwarfed by the burly, towering size of Yammy. But Inoue could see now that despite his precariously slim frame, the Cuatro's arms and legs were tapered with a striking definition of working muscles that seemed to fortify his agility and power. 

At the same time, he looked completely harmless, lowering with all the quiet grace of a deer, deftly folding up what looked like a torn, white garment.  
The muscles of his abdomen clenched over the curves of distinct hipbones, and she watched his ribs strain through that thin, porcelain skin as he reached further forward to pull at something else.

It dragged along the sand before he finally raised it. 

Her eyes widened and the breath in her throat caught as she saw the limp sway of the bloodied purpling forearm.

Harmless?  
Her chest tightened with a sick spiral.  
How could she even think it!

The limb dangled like an otherworldly extension from the Arrancar's grasp, completely shattering her trance. Crimson trickled from all sides like messy syrup over the rim of a sundae glass, and Inoue watched horrified, and suddenly very, very alert. 

As if he'd been aware of her stare the entire time, his glassy eyes merely met hers in expectant nonchalance.  
And then he turned around with typical measured grace - giving her a thorough eyeful of everything he kept under that uniform.  
"A report has been issued addressing this morning's encounter with the Primera Espada."  
The soft murmur drifted over the stifling awkwardness and heat around her.  
Inoue's face turned several shades of ever-darker red as he dismally sauntered away.  
"I will be meeting with Lord Aizen briefly to discuss certain issues. And I suggest you remain here until I come back."  
His words were always wrapped in that languid timbre.  
But even then, and despite his vulnerable display, every ounce of that tone implied defying his 'suggestion' would invite grave consequences.  
She watched him disappear into what seemed to be another well-lit room. 

Inoue slowly rose to a sit, her shoulder throbbing and the heat burning into her skin. She massaged her dead fingers and straightened her back with some semblance of dignity, flinching at the sharp retorts pinching down her spine.

"I... see." She barely managed, throat hoarse and sore. 

Her mind was a tangle.  
She could feel the questions brimming, but she didn't know where to start. 

_Was that HIS arm?_

Her forehead wrinkled with dismay.  
It did look deathly pale.

_But that was impossible, wasn't it?_  
_He was very clearly, nakedly, uninjured._

Her face colored even more. And then still, even more - Ashamed that she even bothered with thoughts like that at a time like this.  
She heard subtle shuffles that sounded like objects being dropped into cushioned places, and the rustle of clothing.  
A faucet began to run and she listened to the constant, disjointed splashes until her mind faded off. 

She could remember snippets.  
Of terrifying things that crept out from the walls, and sudden figures appearing along her peripheral vision.  
And there were a lot of flashbacks, of past battles won that she felt she was suddenly fighting again, only to realize she'd been wrestling with sand and was conjuring no fairies at all. 

_"Stay here. Don't move."_

Ulquiorra's voice would constantly break the visions to bring her back to the reality of being in his strange room.  
She stayed rooted, shaking, but obedient.  
And then she would feel herself getting worked up all over again, breaths escalading and hyperventilating in paranoia as more visions slipped uninvited and quite suddenly into her mind, forcing her to relive more things, reacting with sincere fear as if everything were so vividly real. 

And there were the faces of her friends. 

She'd felt Rukia's hand on her purpling wrist, clutching hers and telling her she was strong.  
She'd looked into those dark violet eyes and seen her determined, beautiful smile.  
And then small worms with teeth had started to slide out of the corners of those lips and she'd been terrified to realize it wasn't the Shinigami at all. 

She struggled against the corner of her balcony only to have her hand caught in Sado-kun's grip, whirling around at his wild gaze and his mindless grunts, watching a rabid foam cascade down his mouth and chin.  
It bubbled with blood, his throat, slashed.  
And then Ishida-kun was there, fixated and calm, and she cried out for him.  
The way she always did, in expectance, that he would rescue her.  
That her friends would _always_ rescue her.  
But he'd pulled back that bow, and it glowed not with blue purifying light, but with coagulated blood, dripping down steel stems impaled directly into his forearms.  
He pulled that bow back, and the bones in his forearm bent until they snapped. 

She was screaming.  
She was wailing until her throat was raw.  
She cried until the strength completely left her and her body had collapsed. 

And then he had finally come, amidst the chaos. 

She found herself looking up to the billowing Shinigami uniform and familiar form of the man she loved, crouching over her shaking body.  
He spoke first, and it sounded like defeat. 

"... I failed to protect you."

The words she regretted not to have spoken pushed against her and she'd decided in her half-maniacal state to confess before it was too late and she was robbed of any mind at all.  
Her weakness, and her gratitude and her love.  
Before it was too late. 

She wanted to kiss him, before she forgot he ever existed at all. 

She was staring at a field of white pleats, and she quickly realized as her consciousness slammed back, what they were.  
Inoue jerked, swiveling up to meet with his unflinching stare.  
Those slit-pupils merely looked her down with adequate pause.

"How do you feel?" His voice broke the silence. 

It was such a nice question, a question of concern asked among peers.  
Only Inoue seemed not to sense any real concern for the person being asked, at all.  
Her chest squeezed painfully at the memories of her friends, and the lack of warmth she was unused to that had now replaced it. 

"I'm fine..." She answered, trying to brush the feeling off while managing a smile.  
Her eyes searched an invisible space around him.  
"... But what happened to me?"

Ulquiorra surprised her by lowering with a gracious spilling of pristine folds.  
Clothed decently this time, with only his coat still unzipped. 

Without warning, a pale hand rose nudging subtly at her chin.  
Inoue inhaled, gray eyes alert, while he remained squarely fixated.  
He tilted her face left and right observing how her pupils reacted to light sensitivity.  
"Is something wrong?" Her voice came out higher and scratchier than usual.  
His hand left her face.

"... You were poisoned." He finally said.  
His eyes held no empathy, nor frustration.  
They merely scrutinized her, as if she were some object to be sustained.  
She was so bothered by the look that she didn't realize he'd reached for her arm.  
He lifted it, diligently looking over her fingers and wrist where the purple marks had been. 

His grip was firm enough that she complied, but also tempered with restraint.  
As if he knew the delicacies of the human body and worked to tolerate it.  
"Poisoned...." She repeated faintly, watching his fingers as they left her wrist.

She'd already expected it, but why.  
Was it from the dagger of that Espada girl?  
No, she'd already used her power of reversal on that, so it shouldn't have affected her.  
Her face settled.  
... It must have been from the Espada in the lab.

Her eyes unconsciously wandered towards the black inked "4" on his paper-white skin as she mulled over the events in the scientist's room.  
"A parasitic fluid that came into contact with your skin. It will not happen again, I will make certain of that." Ulquiorra stated. His eyes studied her.  
"You were seeing things and people who were not there. Deluded, far more than you already are."  
She snatched a look at him, before her eyes narrowed with a shadow of hurt at his apparent gift for dry mocking.  
"Ulquiorra, please... Don't insult me." Inoue murmured, trying to look away from the slim, steel encasement of muscles in front of her. 

Trying.  
And failing. 

It was just so terrifyingly male.  
And admittedly, despite who he was, she did find his physique beautiful.  
She spotted the obscenely low dip of his obliques slicing through the twin gates off his hips and the girl reddened, snapping her gaze back up to him.  
Inoue was dismayed to see his eyes hadn't left her face and he had seen every reaction flit through her features.  
Not that it really mattered.  
It didn't seem to faze him in the least.  
"For the sake of stating a truth, I'll not mind spending time convincing a girl her fantasies are nothing more than what they are..."  
Those green irises broke away, lowering to the flare of her reddening cheeks.  
"- Merely fantasies." His voice ghosted over her.  
Inoue's breath slowed to a tightening when those inhuman pupils trailed down to her lips, as if purposely making a point.  
She sucked her lip under her teeth, away from his stare, feeling a pressure build from the embarrassment. 

"You fantasize about a rescue from Kurosaki Ichigo..."  
His voice, barely a whisper.  
Then his eyes rose, meeting hers.  
"A futile gesture. Because it will not be successful." 

She wondered briefly where that had come from, and she slackened, gauging him with unsure eyes. 

How much had she said out loud?  
How much had he seen?  
She thought back in horror at the kiss and a slow dread went through her. 

And then Ulquiorra had pulled back, replacing his proximity with a neatly folded towel and pressed garments being held out. 

"You will clean yourself up in my bathroom. You may use the shower if you so wish to. Make no attempt to find anything to harm me with, I will already tell you: There is nothing in this place that can."  
He spoke just like he did in that Dangai, with no room for opposition. 

She took the towel and dress, almost offended as she brushed other thoughts away.  
"I don't want to harm you? That's the last thing I want..."  
She whispered, eyebrows furrowing.  
The Arrancar slowly zipped up his coat.  
"It is simply convenient for me that you don't entertain the thought at all."

Captor or not, it wouldn't work to her advantage.  
She couldn't attack him at the testing ground.  
She wouldn't last a second.  
And she was never the type to harm others to begin with. 

Inoue closed her eyes, silently berating herself for how weak she was.  
She really only seemed to slow everyone down when she wanted to help.  
Because of her, her friends were risking their lives.  
Despite the small hope she held, she had never felt so trifling and insignificant. 

Ulquiorra looked her over, and then slowly turned away to retrieve something he'd discreetly placed behind him.  
It was a bundle, covered in white sheets, which bulked with contents she didn't want to imagine. 

"I can clean myself up later in my own room... I don't want to trouble you any more than I have..."  
Inoue suggested, suddenly feeling like an even bigger impediment to him.  
"If you truly wish for no trouble, you will make yourself presentable as soon as I leave. And you will do it here."  
There was a dangerous lilt in that murmur, not bothering to spare her a glance as he continued moving away.  
"Whose arm was it?" She suddenly blurted, unable to stop her concern despite risking more of his wrath.  
The Arrancar paused, and then resumed walking without an answer.  
Her shoulders dropped and she watched him traverse the sand with all the ease and comfort he managed on a Las Noches marbled floor, towards a steel-engraved holder on the wall that held his Zanpakuto.  
The Cuatro skimmed his fingers from the very bottom of the sword's green scabbard, up to its hilt and it dropped into his waiting palm with a release of his Reiatsu. 

The very flicker of that small action sent a shiver through Inoue.  
She felt the dark despair and power seep through her bones for a moment, seizing her internals and making her stomach tremble.  
And she had to wonder just how much power he held carefully contained inside him if only such a limited amount could affect her that way. 

Inoue fought it with a sideways turn of her head as she pushed herself up.  
Pieces of her wanted to rebel against his confident conclusion about her rescue, but another part of her - the kind side that always won - surfaced to stifle the anger.  
He had offered the intimate space of his own room for her safety.  
In a place where powerful figures blatantly attacked her, he was going out of his way to protect her.  
For all she knew, someone had tried to hurt her while she was vulnerable, and he had killed them.  
Her hands shook at the thought. 

"Ulquiorra..." She started again, dusting at the sand over her dress.  
"Thank you-"

The sound of the door falling shut made her look up.  
She blinked for a few seconds and then collapsed with a sigh.  
Her shoulders sank watching the Alabaster doors, soft gray gaze falling to the towel in her hands. 

If there was anything she knew with certainty now about Ulquiorra...

It was that he didn't keep or maintain or prolong anything that held no purpose to him.  
Unless his companions and their thoughts served a purpose, he wouldn't care to engage them for the sake of camaraderie or passing the time.  
In fact, in her case, with her supposed "meaningless" questions, he would not care to engage at all. 

He also moved solely for the sake of his purpose.  
He hadn't thought twice to strike someone of a higher rank in defending her, but he was kind to his servants for providing things he wanted for her.  
Admittedly, this gave him an air of regal dignity and honor, separating him from the other Espada she'd encountered.  
He stood out in refinement like a well-pressed suit amidst a pile of tattered tunics.  
He was 'The Unattainable One,' who purposely ostracized himself from commoners and their meaningless jests, and nobody could put a chink in him because he was in control. 

She got up and started walking to the bathroom.

Ulquiorra had absolutely no interest in her, apart from the fact that she was his unquestionable duty.  
She had a purpose. For now, anyway.  
But something else was chewing her up inside, and Inoue had to ask herself why his cold, dismal treatment was suddenly bothering her...  
Why she was suddenly wishing he would see her as something more significant than just an issued order.  
Perhaps because she knew of things she had that he didn't or couldn't possess.  
Perhaps because she had always been this way, wanting to help others.  
Giving herself and sharing her warmth when he simply rejected that without really knowing her.

And then she began to wonder if as soon as she'd lost her usefulness, he would simply kill her. 

\--

There was a bubble of a chuckle that was not quite so sincere. But it reverberated almost pleasantly light across the marbled walls, like his fake warm sunshine over the Las Noches dome. 

Aizen had listened, without a word or question as the Arrancar gave his report on the incidents involving Inoue Orihime.  
And as Ulquiorra concluded the summary and reached for his eye to give thorough verification, the Shinigami lifted his fingers off the marble armrest. 

"That will not be necessary."

Ulquiorra lowered his hand and slipped it into his pocket. 

"It seems our precious girl has given you more trouble in the past few hours than she has since her arrival."  
Aizen sat at his throne, fingers curled to his cheek as he gazed down at the Arrancar standing at the foot of the marble steps.  
His other hand rested over Inoue Orihime's dress, rubbing his thumb and forefinger almost lovingly at the material, swiping over a small sliver of bloody stain across the rip. 

"You do know how to watch over our little princess." He murmured.  
His eyes lingered on the material before flicking down to the empty green stare. 

"Now... about the destruction of Szayel's laboratory monitors and equipment..."  
He raised the garment and lightly placed it on the table beside him, seemingly dismissing the matter of the Primera Espada's aggression. 

Ulquiorra slowly straightened. 

"There is no excuse for that. Anger simply overtook me."  
"Anger." The man mused, leaning tenderly into his hand.  
A soft smile broke his handsome features, and his eyes glistened with steady weight as he rose from his chair.  
"That is very unlike you, Ulquiorra."

The Arrancar watched him walk to a corner bookcase, where he lightly skimmed a finger over covers and settled on one, tipping it before pulling it out. 

"I apologize. And submit to any form of punishment as atonement."  
Ulquiorra stated. 

The man cracked a reserved smile glancing at him, before returning to his throne with a cascade of robes.  
"Ulquiorra..." He began, light-heartedly.  
"Do you know why I have reassigned surveillance to you?"

"I can only assume." The Arrancar answered.  
"And what is your assumption?" Aizen asked lightly, sitting. 

"Szayel Aporro Granz has been conducting his own Hollow experimentations and surveillance, without your prior consent. My assumption is that he cannot be trusted. Once he is aware of certain things that interest him, he becomes a threat. Acting independently and without your authority."

There was no approval or denial from the man on the throne.  
He simply rested a palm under his jaw and considered Ulquiorra with something akin to mild amusement.  
"You seem quite informed." He graciously noted.  
Ulquiorra didn't answer.  
"If we go by your assumptions..." The man lounged idly,  
"I find it noble for you to submit yourself willingly for sanction. When it seems the man whose laboratory you have destroyed deserves just as much and more, should there be goings-on that I am...unaware of."

Aizen slowly slid the book before him, gazing at it with some flicker of sentiment.  
And then his eyes looked back up with a hint of something darker.  
"In fact, you have relieved me of a burden and already punished him for me." 

Ulquiorra's face remained stoic as those brown eyes lowered into seriousness.  
"If these happened to be unfounded accusations, I would not be so lenient, Ulquiorra. Fortunately, the Captain of the Arrancar Forces reports the very same thing and I have been well-aware of it."

The Shinigami raised his head slightly, tapping a finger characteristically to his temple.  
"Knowing how much of the laboratory's data had been in those monitors and equipment... We can only assume, we will be having no ongoing experiments of any kind, on any level of discretion for the time being." His tone lowered with subtle finality. 

"It was concluded in the previous meeting that any crucial preparation we need for the war with Soul Society has already been prepared. Anger or not, I would not have acted so brazenly, otherwise."  
The Espada quietly said, closing his eyes.

Aizen smiled, trailing that finger along his cheek.  
"Yes. Most fortunate that we currently have no immediate need for Szayel's expertise."  
It struck Ulquiorra that perhaps the destruction, whether he had been the one to instigate it or not, was intended all along.  
After all, the Shinigami was always a few steps ahead of everyone else. 

"I trust you have what you need?" Aizen pleasantly ventured.  
"The surveillance equipment, as per your instruction, has been reinstated in the Cuatro tower." Ulquiorra confirmed. 

Aizen's golden eyes considered him steadily, lips curling.  
"I suspected no less. You know better than to destroy equipment I have assigned to you." The man's fingers wrapped delicately around the armrests of his throne as he leaned back. 

And then the man gave a soft exhale, enough to soften his overall demeanor. 

"I do apologize, for having put you through that ordeal. After all, I had initially approved the experiment..."  
Aizen skimmed the cover of his chosen book, idly, studying the boned helm of his beloved Cuatro Espada.  
His fingers paused over the engraved title.  
"- I did not anticipate you sacrificing an arm to manage such a... petty situation."  
There was no response from the Cuatro, his unfeeling stare turned downward.  
"I am sure, because of your actions, our beautiful Inoue is feeling just fine. But I have the need to ask..."  
There was a slight flicker of a raise in his Reiatsu.  
It was barely a nudge, but enough to draw Ulquiorra's focus back to his eyes.  
"... Are you?" came the eerily quiet inquiry behind that unreadable face.

"I feel none of the remaining effects of parasitic fluid." Ulquiorra confirmed softly.  
Aizen looked the Arrancar over in a deceptively casual sweep of fondness. 

Was his Cuatro truly, truly dead inside?  
A corpse so far gone, no human emotion could stir it?  
In order to monitor the girl, Ulquiorra had bound his Reiatsu to hers.  
Would it have been any of the other Espada with their precarious emotional states, he would not have allowed it at all.  
The risk was too great and might have led to the destruction of the human, and whatever thin sheet of tolerance the Espada had for one another. 

Ulquiorra however, was different.

He would be most resistant to her passionate human frivolity and the least likely to entertain pointless fighting.  
Regardless, he had wanted to test those boundaries.  
Presented with the opportunity, to provoke raw human emotion and observe how his soldier would handle it.  
It was uncharacteristic of Ulquiorra to go to such lengths.  
He'd even gone so far as to confront higher-ranking Espada and to chastise the number 1 Weapons Development Specialist of Hueco Mundo, albeit for the better.  
It was suspicious behavior for one so levelheaded and objective.  
Suspicious for one completely unaffected by human emotion. 

And he had better have a good reason for it. 

Aizen's face reflected none of his thoughts.  
He considered the Hollow with loose interest, though his next question indicated he wanted a direct answer. 

"Tell me Ulquiorra, do you hold this human girl's well-being above yourself and your fellow Espada?"

The green-eyed Arrancar's stare remained glassy and empty as it matched his. 

"No. It is simply that I hold your orders absolute above anything and anyone. And I will do what I can to maintain it efficiently, regardless of whether it conflicts with the intentions of another."

Aizen chuckled, his crystal bright baritone echoing into the high ceiling.  
He crossed one leg over a knee and considered his soldier.  
"Your commitment is a much-needed break from the unruliness of the others. I do appreciate it, Ulquiorra."  
His smile seemed almost genuine. 

If there was anything this proved at all, it was that Ulquiorra ensured his orders were carried out precisely to a T. Even at the expense of being deceived by his sense of sight, and at the expense of others.  
He was entirely confident in his own abilities, and his loyalties seemed unbending.  
Aizen indulged in this momentarily, though by no means did he completely trust it.  
He trusted no one.  
Still...  
No one else would have shown more fervor in protecting his precious Orihime. 

Ulquiorra would serve his purpose.  
And so would the little princess.  
If need be, well beyond the war.

Aizen looked away briefly, as if in candid memory of something.  
His warm chocolate eyes reflected the pale glow of the moon as he idly watched the clouds.  
"I should hate to think something trivial would deter you from the other matters I've requested you to fulfill."

The Arrancar slipped his hands out of his pockets and closed his eyes with a brief tilt of acknowledgement.  
"There are and will be no problems. Everything is as planned." 

"The orbs?"

"As you have instructed, I have sealed them with my Imprint. And they are locked until I access them."  
"Wonderful." Aizen gave the Cuatro another smile.  
And then he lifted a hand, "Gin, Kaname."

Two shadows slipped out from behind his throne.  
Ulquiorra raised his eyes, meeting with the coiling smirk of the silver-haired ex-Captain as he rested a casual arm into the opening of his robe and eased forward from the darkness.  
The other man, the Captain of the Arrancar Forces, mutely studied the Cuatro with unseeing eyes behind his visor as he took his place on the opposite side. 

Aizen's warm eyes remained unchanged as he brushed his fingers in the air.  
"Thank you, Ulquiorra."  
The Cuatro took the reprieve and gave a short bow, turning to leave. 

"Oh, just one more thing-"

The soldier gave him a sideways glance of green as he paused.

"Do return Inoue Orihime's hairclips to her. I'm sure..."  
The man gave him a bigger, disconcerting smile "- under your care and inside this fortress, she poses no threat. To keep it that way, you are to make her feel as if she were one of us."  
There was a slight shift in the man's Reiatsu, and Ulquiorra's Hierro briefly caught waves of it piercing dangerously under the protective layer.  
The man's brown eyes watched him, steadily.  
"... I want you to make sure she feels protected. I want you to win her trust."  
The pinprickles snuck across the Arrancar's back as a silent imposition.  


'Trust' was a heavy word in a place like Hueco Mundo.  
Ulquiorra certainly didn't believe in it.  
The only thing he trusted was his sword, and it was only because he wielded it.  


His green eyes lowered, mentally constructing possible ways to enforce this 'trust.'

"... Is this clear?" The man's brown eyes held its stare, breaking into his thoughts.

"Yes, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra acknowledged without emotion or pause.  
"Good."  
The Shinigami's hand once again found its place under his cheek and he leaned into it casually.  
"You are dismissed." He smiled in all his deceiving gentleness.  
The Cuatro Espada slowly turned, hands still in pockets, and exited the room. 

Aizen waited until the Arrancar's Reiatsu had disappeared from the vicinity before opening to the first page of his book. 

"Kaname," He said, without taking his eyes off the print,  
"- Instruct the Octava Espada to seize the 6th Captain's lieutenant once he has wandered into his territory. Tell him he may have the body of Abarai Renji for his future research. And if he fails and he is still alive, you may bestow your justice upon our return. We cannot ensure his future loyalty."  
"As you wish, Aizen-sama." The former 9th-Captain affirmed in a low tone.  
"Also..." Aizen lingered more subtly.  
"I shall need you to brief the Exequias on a certain... setback."  
His golden eyes finally rose to meet with visored unseeing ones.  
"Ulquiorra's reports on renegade Hollows trying to penetrate Las Noches is an unneeded distraction for our more... impulsive... comrades. Do look into this for me."  
"It is done." The handsome dark-skinned ex-Captain confirmed before giving a brief departing nod and disappearing in a flash of movement.

A short silence filled the room, broken only when the 3rd Division's former captain took a step forward as the man on the throne flipped a page. 

"What'cha reading, Captain?" Gin tilted from behind, his signature smile stretching across those boyish features, silken hair falling sideways. 

"Ah..." The handsome Shinigami tilted an eyebrow, without looking.  
"- Simply something to pass the time until the meeting with our precious Orihime tonight."  
His eyes remained absorbed over the paragraph, before speaking again.  
"... Gin. After your surveillance of the perimeter, please keep an eye on the rest of the Espada, especially Grimmjow and Nnoitra. I want no more interruptions when I speak with the girl tonight, or chance encounters in the desert with her friends. We will bide our time, and simply let them come."  


Gin's eyes crinkled higher in response.  
"Aye-aye, Captain." Came the singsong murmur.  
His slit-eyes fixed on the back of that flawlessly-kept head of brown below him before he slowly turned around and slinked off.  


Aizen lingered amidst a short silence, and then he flipped to the next page.  


\--

The Cuatro made his way down the long flight of steps away from Aizen's headquarters and the Espada meeting room. He traversed casually down to the main level where the grand hallway stretched before him. 

Ulquiorra's thoughts were half shuffling through his agenda for the rest of the day, and half in Pesquisa mode stretching like pulsing ripples across Las Noches - noting the whereabouts of each Espada.  
Six were being good soldiers, staying in their quarters as per Lord Aizen's instruction.  
Three were gallivanting.  
His eyes narrowed, not to berate them, but at the idea of carelessness.  
He couldn't care less about what the others did with their lives or time.  
If they wished to stray from the rules, it was to their expense or solely because of their foolishness.  
He only cared for one thing: They not lay a hand on Inoue Orihime.

His Pesquisa perked at the movement of one particular Espada who was traveling fast enough for him to take special note.  
Judging from the speed at which he was traversing the halls, he was using bursts of sonido.  
The Spiritual Energy broke away from the main dome and hightailed down the first Espada's territory.

Ulquiorra mentally brushed the Reiatsu aside and continued walking. 

He made his way past two small doorways, listening to the quiet murmurs of servant Adjuchas as they went about their business attending to various needs of the Numeros that lived below. 

And then he reached a bigger set of double doors, each with round glass panels at eye level and without breaking his stride, he pushed them open and slowly walked inside. 

The bustling murmurs and heavy clangs and clinks came to a dwindling stop as he slipped his hands into his pockets and raised his mute, green stare. 

They knew better than to leave, but they always cowered. 

Several Adjuchas dropped what they were doing and unconsciously stepped back from their preparations.  
The kitchen became deathly quiet save for one incessant sound.  
Ulquiorra heard the steady clattering of a fork against a mixing bowl as a shaking Adjuchas bowed his head and wedged tightly into the wall too afraid to look up.  
Without bothering to spare the frightened serf a glance, he spoke. 

"Inoue Orihime's human meal is to be brought to my quarters until any further instruction. Please have the meal prepared in one hour."

The Arrancar's vivid green eyes reflected all the bright lights gleaming off the metal shelves and he idly scanned the ingredients he could see with sharpening pupils. 

"Do we have 'Red Bean Paste'?" His quiet inquiry filled the room. 

There were a few blinks, and then one Hollow turned to gaze at the corner shelf.  
At that, a sudden slow shuffling came to life as the Adjuchas took to looking through the shelves and ducking under the steel stackable tables in search for it.  
A tin sheet tumbled to the floor and one Hollow hissed to shush the other while a few ventured into the back rooms.  
Sounds of creaking wooden cabinets being opened as quietly as possible, and sliding shelves being moved filled the space along with small murmurs as the servants scuffled about. 

Ulquiorra canted backwards and closed his eyes, waiting. 

"Ul-Ulquiorra-sama..."  
He opened his green stare and the red-skinned Hollow before him flinched, holding a burgundy pack in his calloused palms with a slow tremble.  
The Cuatro calmly assessed it at the corner of his eyes, scanning the contents and the print, not bothering to touch it.  
"Where is this from?"  
"I-it was brought in from the Human Realm... by Baraggan-sama's fraccion... as instructed by Aizen-sama to fill this portion of the kitchen with food for the girl, sir."  
"Open it." The Cuatro instructed, straightening with his stare not leaving the sealed pack.  
The rest of the Adjuchas fell silent, lingering quietly and watching while the red-skinned Hollow cut into the plastic with scissors and jittery hands.  
He emptied the contents into a bowl with a wet, trembling plop and Ulquiorra frowned down at the distinctly unappetizing mash that greeted him.  
There was a small, collective intake of breath as the Arrancar pushed a pale digit into the goop before slipping the paste into his mouth.  
His eyes narrowed and he lowered his hand with a dull close of his eyes and a sharp exhale.  
... He'd never tasted anything so disgusting and sweet.  
It was a wonder his usually numb palate had even registered the horror at all.  
Why the captive mentioned this as a favorite was beyond his understanding.  
Beyond comprehension, just as many human qualities she possessed her were. 

The Hollow who opened the packet began to back up, almost terrified as Ulquiorra straightened with an emotionless stare directed at him.  
"Include it. Mix it into the meal however you see fit. And have it ready within the time specified..."  
Without sparing another glance at the others, he turned around.  
"That will be all. Thank you."  
He slowly sauntered out with a parting of coattails.

The kitchen and its Adjuchas staff stared openly for another moment of pregnant silence as the doors fell shut, swinging on their hinges.  
And then they all directed their wary stares at the mountain of mash with the Cuatro's indent still there, swiped through the middle.

\---

If he was to win her trust, he was to act convincingly as someone who wished to please her.  
It was not something he had planned, being in this group of hodgepodge warriors who moved for the cause of some personal promise given to them by their Lord Aizen.  
Only it had worked.  
Ulquiorra was stooping, beyond all levels of his pride to make one insignificant, little human woman happy.  
He had reached the passageway to the Primera Espada's Tower when his Pesquisa ripple caught the same sonido movement shoot past the Segunda Espada's domain and into the desert towards the Tres Espada's hut.  
His eyes narrowed as the closer proximity brought the Espada's Reiatsu within his perimeters enough that he could now identify it.

"Yo, Ulquiorraaaa!"  
The Cuatro reached into his pocket, not bothering to grace the lumbering form with a look.  
Instead he took out the hairclips and pinched, shattering the binding rite on them as he continued walking.  
"Ulquiorra, at least look at me when I'm talking to you." The man growled, falling into heavy steps beside him.  
"Yammy. You know you need to stay in your quarters." Ulquiorra slipped a sideways stare at him without stopping.  
"Hah??" He bellowed before laughing - "You expect me to follow that piece of advice when the most obedient Espada is wandering the halls? I won't pass up the opportunity to know what you're up to."  
"If I am as you say, obedient, then you will know I haven't been simply 'wandering'." The smaller man answered.  
"Wandering, roaming, walking, running. What's the difference." The burly Arrancar grinned, looking ahead and completely missing the point. 

Ulquiorra didn't bother answering.  
If the senseless oaf wanted to tail him, that was at his own expense.  
"When are we going to fight, Ulquiorra?"  
The smaller man didn't answer.  
"When do I get to see your woman? I hear you're keeping her in your tower."  
He ceased walking and gave Yammy a sharp stare.  
More because of how the brute referred to the woman as being Ulquiorra's possession than anything else that had been annoying thus far.  
"I find there to be no reason for you to see her. I know how you get, when you're in _that_ state, Yammy..."  
He continued his walk.  
"I prefer not to spend my time stopping more uncontrolled bursts of aggression."

The burly man snorted and rolled his eyes, crossing his beefy arms across his open vest.  
"When I get the chance and I see her again, you know I'll ask for permission before I kill her."  
Again no answer.  
"I know she's yours, Ulquiorraaa. I respect boundaries!"  
For a brief moment, the Cuatro actually entertained the idea of socking the brainless clod.  
If he'd still been under the influence of that parasitic fluid, it most likely could have come to fruition.  
"Enough. Go back to your quarters." He instructed evenly with a flash of a glare.  
Yammy grunted, opening his mouth to retort when a sharp barking echoed down the hallway.  
He swiveled around and his beady eyes widened with annoyance.  
He thumped a fist against the floor, causing tremors before he roared.  
"Damn mutt, I told you to stop following me!"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes, if only for a moment before the sharp awareness forced them open slowly.  
The presence that had been bothering him was loitering dangerously close to his quarters.  
He was already at the Cuatro Tower.  
Ulquiorra's green eyes narrowed.  
_That fool._

Yammy gave the dog another kick and sent it hurtling with a sharp yelp.  
The dog with a Hollow skull over its face slammed into the nearest post before crumpling with dire, mournful cries.  
It dragged itself forward before rolling sideways with whistling whimpers heaving along its stomach.  
"Stupid mutt!" He growled rabidly at it.  
And then Yammy straightened with a dull scowl, scratching at the back of his bald head.  
As if he suddenly remembered he wasn't alone, he broke into another smirk and turned around.  
"Oi, Ulquiorraaa, this dog isn't following orders either!"

But the smaller Espada was gone. 

Yammy's face fell into a sullen moping and he turned around, mumbling, completely disregarding the way the fallen dog was still dragging itself after him.  


\---

Grimmjow lifted his head, taking a long whiff of the air around the Cuatro Tower.  
The scent of the woman was all over the walls and in the air.  
He couldn't feel her Reiatsu, but she was easy enough to trail, regardless.  
The smell of her life and her warmth - And that delicious, sweet, fragile humanity that touched his tongue when she stood so close to him restoring his arm...  
He growled, trembling with a need to rip into her, to consume her aromatic soul. 

That pompous twig probably concealed her Reiatsu with the barriers around his quarters.  
He couldn't sense a blip of her. 

Grimmjow closed his eyes, imagining her body covered in the primal heat and tanginess of blood.  
The blue hairs on the back of his neck bristled with excitement and his icy eyes widened with a menacing smolder.  
He would get his hands on her.  
And it would be a beautiful carnage.  
Unfortunately, he hated being indebted to anyone.  
There was too much pride in him, despite the animalistic urge to kill.  
He would spare her.  
But he would leave her battered and bloody, and he would relish every moment when he had her in his grasp, waving her like a lifeless puppet in front of that human Shinigami.  
Watching his face contort with every possible expression of human anguish. 

"What are you doing?"  
The quiet voice trickled in from beside him. 

The blue-haired Espada tilted, grinning down at the Cuatro's limber frame, eyes pulsing with the remnants of his fantasy. 

"Hello, stick-ass."

Ulquiorra didn't bother trying to comprehend or visualize such a flimsy attempt at an insult.  
Instead the Cuatro lowered his eyes to the generous amount of blood splattered across the taller man's pants and stomach, bathing his opened vest and hems in crimson.  
"If you are quite done with rampaging in the desert and your early evening jog, I suggest you return to your tower."  
The Sexta Espada tossed his head with a howl and laughed.  
"After I came all the way here, to greet you and even ask for _permission_..." The man spat the last word as if it were an insult in itself.

Ulquiorra leveled him with an empty stare.

He was growing ever weary of telling these daft fools to simply stay put.  


"Strawberry boy is close, you know what that means..."  
The taller man trailed off.  
He gave a stretch of a grin and pushed himself off the marble post, taking a final step forward.  
"Don't worry, I'll return your precious human... after I'm done with her." He lingered with a subtle hint.  
Ulquiorra's stoic look remained unmoved. 

"Let me fucking ask again, prick." Grimmjow's grin pulled ever wider and he snapped forward into Ulquiorra's personal space, eliciting no response at all.  
At the lack of inflicting damage, his face fell into a deadly, vehement glower.  
"Where's the little princess?" He snarled.  
Ulquiorra merely took his hands out of his pockets and spared him a patient stare.  
Those ice blue eyes raged with a swelling irritation at his failure to intimidate the Cuatro Espada.  
"Where. Is. The. Fucking..." Grimmjow gritted the words between pauses.  
"- In my room." Ulquiorra answered, raising his eyes with dead indifference for every ounce of proportionate fury being thrown at him.  
And with that simple response, Grimmjow felt the anger beginning to explode in his gut, overtaking him.  


He couldn't understand why the little prick just couldn't hand her over.  
Like he was purposely provoking him by keeping her to himself.  
What the fuck was the purpose in that? She was there to be used, wasn't she?  
Well, he'd fucking use her and teach the prick how.  


"In your room." He repeated with a hissing gnash of canines.  
"It's already been a night, stick-ass. Aren't you gonna take her out?"  
The Sexta stepped forward, his hands clenched so tight the veins in his forearms protruded starkly against his taut muscles.  
"Or did you already rip her dress apart and prop her naked ass in the air for you to stare at, hoping those raisin dick n' balls of yours haven't completely shrivelled up into more sand for your floor." Grimmjow's voice snapped loudly.  
The flare of uncontrolled Reiatsu leaking from the Sexta was completely uncalled for.  
Ulquiorra considered throwing him off the nearest balcony simply to get him out of his sight and tower.  
This incident was stirring too much attention, it would lure the Espada out like morbid spectators over a street brawl.  


That face was startlingly close.  
Ulquiorra could feel the heavy breaths and waves of animosity fanning off the blue-haired beast.  
"I didn't think you'd be the type to fuck a human, Ulquiorra." came the jarringly low growl.  
The Cuatro's slit pupils didn't flinch as they steadily considered him.  
"For someone whose immediate thoughts are of that nature, I now suspect you are." 

The taller man growled and grabbed at Ulquiorra's zipped collar, only to snatch at air.  
He froze at the jolting realization that he had missed the movement entirely.  
He hadn't realized the Cuatro's speed was that fast. The little prick.  


"You waste your time. You will not 'borrow' her. You will not even see her. And we are not having a senseless fight to satiate your violent whimsy."

He pulled his face up at the finality of that tone, and saw Ulquiorra standing at the entrance to the Cuatro tunnels.  
Without looking away, the green-eyed Arrancar pushed the door open with tempered grace and gave him one last stoic glance before turning to continue inside.  
"Go back to your quarters." He quietly finished. 

And Grimmjow watched the doors close and seal with the Cuatro's Reiatsu.  
He clenched his fist and pounded it into the nearest pillar.  
Only barely finding gratification in the fact that he had caused a small crack.  
And then the Sexta turned and stalked off. 

\---

Inoue was toweling off her ginger locks when she heard the creaking groan of those grand alabaster doors parting. 

She paused and straightened, eyeing the raven-haired Arrancar as he slowly walked in. Without consciously knowing it, Inoue's gray eyes had wandered from his face down to the parting of his waistbands as she remembered just how much she'd seen now hidden between layers of loose cloth.  
She tucked her chin with the beginnings of a fierce blush, fingers clutching at the towel in newfound, and much awakened embarrassment. 

"Your food will come within the hour." He said with an almost tired-sounding murmur.  
She raised her eyes at the dismal tone, her concerned side surfacing to assess him. 

Ulquiorra's emerald eyes met hers and she felt his gaze sweep once over her form, gauging the appropriateness of her appearance before breaking away and eyeing the rest of the room, finally settling his stare on the crystal grove at the center. 

"I only took one branch." She attempted to joke.  
He returned his attention to her almost immediately, Inoue noticed.  
His expression unemotional, unreadable and unbelievably empty.  
And then something in his eyes shifted, the green seeming to pulse with some sliver of depth.  
"You may take as many branches as you wish." He said, peculiarly attentive. 

Inoue's mouth had begun to drop a sizeable distance before she'd realized it and the girl drew it back up sharply with a number of blinks.  
"I... That's not..." She started slowly, her eyebrows lowering slightly in amused confusion.  


There was an odd, exhaled sound.  
And then Ulquiorra straightened, realizing that the girl had begun to giggle.  
He watched her send him another glance, her fingers pressed to her tightly-pursed lips to stifle the sudden bubble of sound.  
"Well, I appreciate it! Thank you." The girl grinned faintly before shaking her head.  
"But I really don't want to do that."  
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed, trying to discern any sort of sensibility from the short exchange, and he concluded that he wouldn't understand it no matter how many times he tried. 

However, laughter was a possible start to earning her trust.  
That basic human need to find the slightest, fleeting comfort in humor.  
It was near impossible for him to find anything funny.  
There was simply an acceptance of a joke, and identifying it as one.  
The Cuatro knew as much as that.  
But where others found the urge to laugh, whether it was over someone else's pain, or in the passionate blows of battle, through friendly jests, or physical tickles and jabbing - With him, there was no mirth. No urge to relieve brimming merriment. No fulfillment. There was nothing. 

And because of this, Ulquiorra could not instigate or react to a joke.  
Inoue noticed his eyes dull before the Cuatro turned away. 

"It's beautiful." She suddenly said.  
Ulquiorra stopped at that, giving her a sideways stare and noticing that the girl had pushed her hands behind her back and was looking with her head tilted at the amethyst trees.  
The lights reflecting off the branches fell across her face in broken sliced shards, and they lit her eyes up with vivid warmth, reminding him of her fleshy humanity. 

"What about it is?" He found himself giving in with the question.  
She came to life with simply that, turning to him at the stirrings of another exchange to satiate her loneliness. 

Engaging her in conversation would have to be another norm, if he were to see this whole thing through properly. 

"The branches. I've never seen anything clustered together so white, and shining so clearly... so brightly. It reminds me of snow-covered bark, and ice, and bright-colored lights. Christmas, but in the desert."  
She laughed softly again.  
And he listened to the gentle, feminine lilt as it subsided.  
Even that seemed to leave a certain warmth in the air.  
The Arrancar looked her over and considered the visuals in her words.  
He had never seen snow. Nor had he ever heard of 'Christmas.'  
But if there was anything he understood, it was looking at her physical expression.  
The way he always had.  
He mentally ran it through her existing blueprint and realized this was a new kind of smile, and a new height of tenderness coming over his human captive.  
Tuning in to her physical state, he felt nothing but steady, healthy beats from the thing in her chest.  
And he concluded that this was as good a start as any. 

She turned to him, and gave a bigger smile, eyes crinkling with those long, delicate lashes pressing to the tips of her cheeks.  
His green eyes studied her with newfound interest, and then he took a step closer, testing the way his proximity affected her. 

Inoue felt a warmth go through her as Ulquiorra came to rest beside her.  
Something she'd said had changed him, it seemed.  
And whatever it had been was a welcome from the cold, dismal normalcy he always projected.  
Perhaps, she was breaking through to him after all.  
The moment swelled in her, and she felt her chest squeeze with a happiness she hadn't felt in the days since she'd walked into Las Noches. 

"I didn't get the chance to really tell you a while ago, but thank you for keeping me safe here, Ulquiorra." She whispered, giving him a heartfelt smile.  
The Cuatro raised his head and then gave her another mute look.  
His eyes lingered briefly before descending to the subtle curve of her mouth.  
The moment he did this, however, Inoue looked away almost too quickly for his taste, biting gently at her lip, slightly flustered.  
He mentally noted it before filing it away. 

Inoue fluffed out the towel in her hands and began folding it, fighting the heat creeping up her neck at his unabashed inspection.  
"Why do you have these trees and the sand in your room, Ulquiorra?" She managed brightly.  
The Cuatro studied the branches reaching up into the heights of the low dome.  
The question was not entirely meaningless, he concluded.  
"It reminds me of a certain place." His tone gave nothing away of his past, or the only sentiment he had ever held on to.  
"The only place where I can truly sleep."  
The Cuatro turned, considering how this slightly more personal snippet of information affected the girl.  
She only lowered her face with a slight tint of pink cheeks.  
"I see. It must be hard, to find no real rest anywhere else."  
Ulquiorra found himself thinking about that statement, and concluded he might have to make trips to the girl's room occasionally to close his eyes.  
If only to give the impression that he could, in fact, 'fall asleep,' in only one other place.  
The place where she was.  
Letting his guard down would invite her to do the same.  
It would call out her mercy and eventually, her trust.  


As in battle, Ulquiorra was a keen observer, standing patiently in wait, watching for his opponent's strengths and weaknesses before acting to deliver the most accurately lethal combination of blows.  
Its application was probable in handling this particular task, and the Cuatro manipulated with words much the same way.  
Leaving little room for anything but a certainty that the person he wished to control fell right into his hands, with every succeeding, cumulative statement.  


Inoue looked sideways at the glimmer that caught her eyes.  
And then her gray gaze widened, staring at the hairclips given to her by her brother, in the outstretched palm of the Cuatro.  
She tentatively reached out, looking to him for permission.  
And when he merely stared and held his stance, Inoue bit her lip and slowly took them, clutching the slim accessories to her chest.  
"You may keep them..." Ulquiorra finally said.  
"Should you feel a need to protect yourself, you are granted permission to do so."  


Inoue's eyes widened.  


Her transparency was like that of a child's and he could read her like an open book.  
Perhaps, this would be a simple endeavor.  
"But..." She started with a troubled gaze searching his face. "I thought you didn't trust me with my hairpins?"  
Ulquiorra lowered his face to her, at just precisely the spot where he knew she would perceive it as personal.  
As expected, the thing in her chest immediately responded.  
"Perhaps, it is because you earlier declared, that you mean me no harm. Should I not take you for your word?" He asked softly.  
He mentally noted the slight increase of that pulsing staccato in his mind as her eyebrows lowered.  
"I... -" She whispered fervently.  
And then Ulquiorra watched her face break into a beautifully tender smile.  
It wasn't an unpleasant view, it was on the contrary, interestingly different from his usual encounters of the same expression.  
It harbored no ill-intentions, nor did it taunt or gloat. And it was every bit an honest reaction as her humanity constantly proved.  
"Thank you..." Came her ardent murmur.  
His eyes lingered over her glowing radiance for another moment before he eased away to his former respectable distance, cutting himself from her warmth.  


And then he delivered his most lethal blow.  


"I have requested that your food be flavored with red bean paste. You mentioned it was a favorite."  
Ulquiorra reveled in a brief satisfaction seeing the way this particular statement brought an even wider, brighter grin over the human's face.  
She exclaimed and even clapped with a bounce, and questioned how he'd managed it.  
And Ulquiorra patiently answered all her questions without batting an eye.

Yes.  
He would win her trust.  
...  
Humans were so helplessly naive.  


\---

\---


	11. Urahara's Sweets Shop: Underground level

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Thus, le drama unfolds.
> 
> Completely tore this chapter apart and put it back together, just like the previous chapter.  
> Aizen was so difficult to write in the last one. He's way too smart for me to justify, so I apologize for the stupidity he spouts. 
> 
> It was so damn tedious, let me tell you.  
> I'm sorry if it's super rough around the edges, as in the previous chapter as well.  
> Lots of orb discussion, it's unavoidable!  
> I wouldn't be surprised if someone dozed off, like Ichigo probably would. (-_-);

It was warm for an autumn day in Karakura Town.  
The air was crisp and clear, lending a smell of deep wood and maples across the yard. The sun filtered through high, puffy, cumulous clouds against a mellow blue canopy. Beams of warm yellow illuminated the patches of grass and dirt as the skies rolled in disjointed patterns.  
The wind stirred sullenly through crackling leaves, shaking the very few that were left off of their fragile boughs, leaving the branches bare, and sending browns, oranges and yellows cascading to the ground. 

In this serenity, a bubbling of sounds were heard, the emptiness of the space broken only by the sudden flitting blurs of the small, laughing forms dashing across the yard. A bigger, lumbering shadow wearing an apron swooped in with a follow - rumbling with snarky authority in its voice as the figure snagged the shirt collars of one of the running forms and began scolding it, dangling the squirming child in the air. 

Kurosaki Ichigo leaned into the wooden fence, arms crossed, watching as Tessai berated an equally irate Jinta, who shouted back with all the flaring passion of a typically rebellious pre-teen.  
"Don't we ever get breaks, old man? I'm an underpaid minor y'know!"  
"Scrubbing floors, cleaning plates, preparing trays, wiping shelves! That's all you have to do to maintain this store."  
"Done, done, done and done! Ask Ururu." The wild-eyed boy with red quaffed hair screeched while pointing at the younger child, huffing with red cheeks at their feet with the remnants of dying giggles.  
Tessai's mustache quivered and he drawled a growl, pulling the boy inches from his infuriated stare, earning a strangled squeak.  
"How many times must I tell you to do the work yourself!"  
Jinta flinched, gritting his teeth and wiggling away with a slight push to the man's nose.  
"She was more than happy to do it for me!!!" He hollered, voice cracking. 

The Shinigami half-mindedly watched them struggle, his gaze droll and undiscerning, until a nudge to his shoulder pulled his thoughts away, causing him to turn distractedly.  
He looked down at a paper plate filled with food and a pair of plastic utensils.  
"Here. She still hasn't woken up, so you might as well eat something, Kurosaki."  
The handsome orange-haired boy gave his bespectacled companion a small quirk of a smile despite his dismal mood.  
"Thanks, Ishida."  
The Quincy barely nodded and Ichigo slowly took the plate of barbecued chicken and rice from the archer's outstretched hand.  
The pale boy gave his glasses a flick before decidedly settling beside him, back pressed to the planks holding his own meal as he idly crossed an ankle over the other. 

They ate in comfortable silence.  
Jinta managed to elbow Tessai across the chin and break off his stronghold, hollering taunts at the man, and the threesome ran off towards the store, past Chad, with a subsiding mixture of screeches, laughter and groans. 

Ichigo's golden gaze barely skimmed the commotion before he lowered his eyes to contemplate his plate and his simmering thoughts, quietly. 

"Did you notice it? Inoue-san's Reiatsu?"  
The raven-haired man's voice slowly broke the silence.  
"Hmm? What about it?" Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed, trying to bypass the fact that he had barely felt it. 

It was no secret his Shinigami powers had been deteriorating after their return from Hueco Mundo, it was something the boy wanted bravely to accept - like a creeping progression of cancer, stifling his lifeline to the other worlds.  
It's not like he regretted anything, and it's not like he had any rights to complain when he was thrusted, literally, with a power that wasn't his to begin with.  
Given a chance, Ichigo thought he might do it all over again, even knowing how much he would have to lose in the end.  
That was just his typical hero-complex, a part everyone had accepted a long time ago. A part that had saved him many times, and won him the privilege of building a friendship bridge between two very different worlds.  
At the rate he was going, even he knew he'd been handed far too much power and allies not to upset the universe. It was almost unfair to everyone else.  
This was the price to pay proposed by fate, and Ichigo almost willingly accepted it.  
He'd escaped with a life, a great adventure worth many lifetimes to tell, and with his friends.  
He concluded that was all he needed. 

And then the boy thought back to the ginger-haired girl, unconscious, inside the shop a few meters away, and his eyebrows clashed with a furrow.  
With a siding of guilt served with much longing, he heard that small whisper begging to have his powers back, if only for a time.  
At least until this chapter of rescue had finally drawn to a conclusion. 

"It's different. Being in that room with her, Kurosaki."  
His thoughts snapped back to Ishida as he spoke.  
"What do you mean?" Ichigo distractedly brushed at the back of his head. 

"... I felt him."

The certainty in the archer's voice brought a feeling of unease over Ichigo and he stopped, straightening to his full height.  
At the mention of 'him', the Substitute Shinigami's blazing eyes narrowed into the dirt.

And he remembered those glowering, dead yellow orbs, with sharp slashes for pupils bearing into his soul with enough weight he could feel his very bones splintering.  
He felt his fists tighten in response to the memories.  
"You mean you felt his Reiatsu over hers." He stiffly confirmed, slightly peeved that he couldn't share in the sentiment.  
He was still seething at the thought of such an invasion when Urahara had revealed it. It only irritated him more. 

Ishida lowered his plate and looked up at the sky, his demeanor entirely placid compared to the raging heights of his friend.  
"Well, it wasn't just like that. I felt his presence."  
The Quincy closed his eyes.  
"And his Reiatsu wasn't over hers, it was more mixed with hers, part of her. It almost felt inseparable."  
His slim eyebrows drew together.  
"But it felt like he was in that room, Kurosaki. I can't really explain it."  
His voice dwindled off, and the frustration of being unable to comprehend reflected the annoyance on his sharp, pale face. 

Ichigo's golden glare widened a fraction into confused disbelief and he pushed away from the fence to fix one of the shop windows with a guarded look, as if expecting some menacing flare of the Arrancar to bust through the roof. 

"If we hadn't fought with him atop Las Noches, and I didn't know Inoue-san's Reiatsu so thoroughly, I would have confused it for another entity's Spiritual Energy all together with the way it was merged."  
Ishida sighed, delicately rolling his stick of chicken and studying it with unseeing eyes.  
"I've been thinking... what if our worst fears are true."  
His onyx eyes fell on his companions clear gold ones.  
"If he's back, then it's clear some part of him is in her. It'll be hard to... just kill him."  
The unspoken words Ishida didn't want to say fell between them.  
Harming Ulquiorra, might ultimately be harming Inoue Orihime.  
And with the state of decline in Ichigo's powers, it would prove difficult fighting an Espada.

Ichigo began to feel that ugly helplessness he despised, creeping into his gut.  
The same feeling that haunted him the night his family was attacked and he'd chosen to become a Shinigami, and just the previous day, when he realized he couldn't see a Hollow as clearly as he used to and his blows were not dealing enough damage.

At the same time, he felt the maddening urge to dash into the house, take out his Zanpakuto and call the coward out from whatever sleeping depths he lay in, leeching off her like some organism in dormancy.

Neither of them had touched their meal when Chad came forward.  
His stoic face seemed to simply focus on the mutual space between them as there was no telling behind the dark mop of bangs, where he was actually looking. 

"Urahara-san wants to talk to us." He stated with low fluidity before lifting his head slightly with a shake. One eye stared out at them from those shaggy locks.  
"It's about those objects they found in Hueco Mundo."

"Let's go."  
Ichigo's eyes narrowed and he broke into a jog, setting his plate down at the nearest backyard table before dashing in.  
"C'mon!" He quipped, pulling the doors open and ducking sideways to avoid Tessai and Jinta's wrestling forms.  
Ishida lowered his face with a snort. "Like walking ever hurt anyone. Where does he get all his energy."  
Chad glanced his way, saying nothing and following shortly behind to close the sliding panels. 

\---

The Quincy could sense it right away as they entered, and he angled sideways, catching Chad's expectant stare. The bigger man seemed to feel it too, judging from the way his arm began to stiffen in defensive reaction.

The air had grown thicker, and Kurosaki Ichigo was running right into the brunt of it, seemingly unaware. 

Ishida felt a small pang of sympathy for him before brushing it aside, knowing the orange-haired man would beat him to the ground if he knew he was given even an ounce of pity. 

The room where Inoue lay permeated with heaviness, despite her own bright Reishi pouring into the corners.  
A tar-like feeling clung to the ceilings, pressing down on them with vague familiarity.  
It was definitely his. 

Ishida sent the room a sharp glance, eyes quickly looking over their friend's sleeping form and sweeping over the serenity on her face before continuing past it. 

Ichigo had stopped to look into that room before continuing down the hallway, pulling several doors open to search for the shopkeeper.  
Chad caught up next to him to put a strong hand on his shoulder.  
The boy looked up at him, distractedly.  
"This way." The chiseled Latino murmured.  
And he led him towards Urahara's Reiatsu at the end of the hall and to the right.  
The Quincy's eyes lowered.  
It was really starting to become apparent, that the Shinigami was slowly losing touch with the spiritual realm.  
He'd never seen him look so clueless. 

The ex-Captain waited with an uncharacteristically somber expression, gauging the trio from the shady brim of his fisher hat as they entered.  
"Come with me." He gave a small lilt of a humorless smile, meaning to alleviate the stifling air surrounding them.  
They all made their way down the hall to the far end, before slipping into one of the rooms one by one. 

"Hello Ichigoooo!!!" 

The orange-haired boy almost jumped out of his skin when a form suddenly popped out before the partially opened door, spreading dark arms out in an obvious attempt to startle him.  
He gave a yelping cry, shoving at the door, and jarring it from its frame to steady himself before giving the toothy, grinning woman a glare.  
"You hag! Damn it, you scared me!" He roared in irritation, almost colliding with Ishida.  
"Hag?" Yoruichi's eyebrow ticked and she slammed a fist hard over the top of his head, chastising him, eyes widening menacingly.  
"Say that again! Say it to my face again."  
She gave him another sideways smack to the temple, forcing him to drop to his knees in pain.  
"Ow! Ahhhhht-t-t-t-." Ichigo recoiled, clutching at his skull and lifting a hand away with a wince, expecting to see blood.  
He blinked, grumbling, until the white sparks shooting around his vision dwindled.

"Ah, Yoruichi will be joining us, by the way." Urahara lightly said, as if he'd just remembered it, gracing the beaten boy with a falsely apologetic smile. 

"Now, everyone please..."

He walked to the center of the room and tapped the floorboards with his cane, sending the square panel dropping into the darkness before leaping in.  
"- Right this way!" His voice echoed. 

The rest of them followed with Ichigo sending dagger-sharp glares at Yoruichi's back as he jumped in last. 

\---

They stared up at the room with monitors before Urahara ushered them to the side and they sat themselves down over a rectangular table. 

There were no other sounds save for the air whirring from the vents above their heads, and bleeps from certain machines on standby. There was also a constant wet bubbling, as if a pressurized hose were sending air into a shallow liquid-filled tank and it was somewhere they couldn't see. 

Before Ichigo could open his mouth to ask about what exactly had happened to Inoue in that room, a steel case with three vials had been put down in front of them. 

The trio blinked down at the odd objects with hesitant scrutiny. 

Each vial had a singular marble the size of a ping-pong ball suspended at its center with beams of white light like pencil lasers criss-crossing along the cylindrical surface. 

They were all primarily black, but as Ichigo lowered to scrutinize each one, they began to catch at the low glow of laser lights, reflecting a green, glossy outer sheen and visible grooves along the surface.  
Something smokey and even blacker seemed to be swirling like sentient wisps of clouds inside its center, and the Shinigami realized the cases were slightly translucent. 

He pushed his face away and looked up at Urahara.  
"Are these the orbs?"

"Yes." came the shopkeeper's soft reply.  
"These are the orbs that diminished Inoue-san's Reishi. I've placed seals on each of them to prevent any spirit particles from leaking out."

Yoruichi pushed a hand to her hip and studied them with her yellow gaze. 

"When I, along with the Stealth Unit Division, went to Hueco Mundo to penetrate Las Noches, we found the place almost barren and trashed. It seems there were certain individuals, perhaps lower-ranking Hollows that served the Espada, who were most likely tasked to destroy anything that could have compromised Aizen and his headquarters as soon as they departed for war." 

Her glinting citrine eyes lowered with a clash of eyebrows. 

"We suspect these orbs were found for a reason. They might have wanted us to find them. Or the Hollows left behind were too scared to take them. Either that, or they could not be destroyed without great power."

Ishida leaned forward to inspect the round objects, pushing distractedly at his eyeglasses as he spoke.  
"You mentioned they were found in a surveillance room, and you discovered they did hold footage, but is that really all they're for?"

The orange-haired boy gave the archer a wary sideways glance.  
"What do you mean, Ishida?" He slowly ventured.

The Quincy closed his eyes and crossed his arms. 

"It just seems odd, that something as simple as surveillance recordings would be placed in a container resistant to even top-level kido spells. We'd seen a great deal of live battles while we were at Las Noches, and the Espada didn't have problems revealing the extent of their abilities. Why would they go through trouble to encrypt castle footage with such high-level skill?

The Quincy distractedly turned towards Urahara, who was giving him the hints of a subtle smile. 

"Correct. We could say that because Aizen is a grade A kido user, these orbs were made solely for him to view. That initially led us to believe there are important things in the footage not meant for just anyone. But then, there is something else..."

They perked and sent expectant gazes towards the ex-Captain. 

"As you know because of Inoue-san, we saw something entirely different: Events as seen from Ulquiorra's perspective. Knowing how Aizen's mind works, I suspect the footage in the orbs could also have served as a distraction or a cover up, before its true purpose could be revealed at the proper time. Not just by any high level kido user, but by the right person."

Everyone was silent.  
Ichigo's patience was cracking.  
"But, why Inoue? And what does Ulquiorra have to do with this?" came his frustrated voice. 

"We don't have an answer for that. But we can assume this is happening because Ulquiorra was her assigned guardian. And these orbs simply seem to respond to both of them." Urahara said with a raise of his serious gaze. 

"Inoue-san was drawn to come here. I believe, for a reason. But if I'd known sooner of the consequences, I would not have allowed her passage down here."  
He pulled his hat down and bore a guilty smile.  
"I do have to apologize for that." He murmured helplessly.  
"It seems I always make the wrong decisions with her."

Yoruichi flung an arm around his shoulders, startling the man as she light-heartedly jostled him. "Share some of the blame, huh?" She declared, a charming toothy protrusion emerging from one corner of her dazzling grin. 

"You didn't know..." The Substitute Shinigami chimed in with a defeated tone.  
The lowering of his hardened eyes spoke volumes of how he was, again, placing most of the burden on himself.  
"If only I'd sensed her coming here. Maybe I could have done something."  
His fists ground into the table.

"Tch, then I'm just as much to blame. I was out cold." Ishida mumbled, pulling away with a flinch as if suffering a physical chink to his Quincy pride.  
Chad merely stared with a sullen silence, the only sign of guilt being the lowering of his towering shoulders. 

"About the orbs..." The Quincy's voice slowly ventured after some respected silence had passed. 

Everyone knew better than to interrupt.  
When Ishida Uryuu began his whirring thought processes, there was no stopping the accurate dissection of the matter.  
"You mentioned Spirit Ribbons? I didn't know they could be attached to inanimate objects..." He crossed his arms.  
"The Quincy use it to detect living, walking, breathing entities. Apart from that, doesn't it take a high level of skill to actually have them materialize? I don't recall Inoue-san having that ability, either."  
He raised his onyx gaze to Urahara, frowning. 

The shopkeeper lifted his head very slightly, and his keen eyes gave a gentle crinkle as he exhaled a slow breath.  
"You're rather sharp, Ishida-san."

Then he turned to Ichigo, who seemed to be dulling by the moment at all the viciously bookish information.

"When Kurosaki-san first discovered Zangetsu, he described the experience as 'finding the right Spirit Ribbon attached to the right box.' His own powers were contained in that box. His consciousness was in that box. The same theory should apply for the orbs as well."

Ishida's eyes widened and he stuck a thumb under his chin in deep, possibly excited, thought.  
"Going by that theory... A part of Ulquiorra's consciousness is in the orbs... and they respond to the person who holds the other part of them. If they're thoughts, then the events you saw weren't footage at all..."  
The Quincy's eyes snapped up to Urahara, his irises sparking with discovery.  
"They're memories." He murmured with sudden understanding. 

Urahara's smile widened.  
"Very astute. Are you interested to work for me, Ishida-san?"

Ichigo leaned forward along with the Quincy, their faces mirroring similar astonishment.

"Eh???" The raven-haired boy suddenly crowed, pulling his chair back with a sliding squeak, raven hair whipping over his spectacles at the motion. 

"Can we please move on?" Ichigo grated with a toss of arms and a weary grumble.  
"We're discussing a friend's dire situation, not a job promotion!"

"P-... promotion?! I'll have you know, Kurosaki, I'm _proud_ to be a Quincy and I would never even consider apprenticeship under a Shiniga-"  
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." The strawberry-blonde boy grinned lightly, waving his reddening face away. 

Yoruichi slapped a hand lightly to the table repeatedly, eyebrow shooting up.  
"Boys!"

Urahara snapped to attention to aid the bristling woman, and he dramatically cleared his throat. 

"Judging from my current tests, Inoue-san has done something irreversible to the orbs. Awakened them. And in turn, whatever is in the orbs have affected her."

They fell silent at the more immediate problems being presented. 

'Affected,' to Ichigo, was starting to sound like 'Infected.'  
They were dealing with a malicious, squirming, violating parasite.  
He bristled with newfound anger. 

"Since she'd fallen unconscious, Ulquiorra's Reiatsu seems to have gotten even more prominent. It might not be so wise to find out what those orbs are really for at this point, if it means endangering her. Ultimately however, that might not be our decision, but hers." The man quickly finished, before Ichigo's patience completely shattered. 

Which it did, with an entire backlash of collateral rage thrown behind it. 

A hand slammed over the table, and the boy rose with a flaming, hardened glare and a wild swing of his fist.  
"Forget these orbs. We should just lock them up or destroy them and figure out how we can get that leeching parasite off Inoue!"

"I agree." Chad quietly supported, suddenly breaking his year-long silence.  
"We're better off having nothing to do with this."

Ishida pulled back with a furrow of brows.  
"I find it hard to think Inoue-san would oppose this. She's already been through so much because of the Espada, being captured and kept, and seeing Kurosaki turn into -..."  
The Quincy dwindled off, cringing as the Substitute Shinigami turned away with a clench of fists and a shadowed look.

They watched him linger with his backs partially to them, shoulders stiff.  
He didn't have to possess vast amounts of Spiritual Energy to display the rolling waves of frustration that bristled through the air now. 

Ichigo was the best and worst of both worlds.  
A flaring temper, and a flaring passion. 

All strung up in a hard, persistent shell of a blazing rocket shooting off and careening through everything in its path.  
Along the trajectory to the stars and beyond the expectations of everyone's imagination, he strapped on the weight of responsibility far tighter than any other ordinary or exceptional person.  
His incredible victories were the very heights of his existence.  
And in contrast, his indirect failures were just as proportional in pain. 

The higher he flew, the farther he fell. 

Ishida considered him with a softening gaze, watching the boy raise his head to stare at the corner wall, prominent nose revealing his profile. 

"No one in their right mind would want anything to do with Ulquiorra after seeing the things we have, after seeing what I became. I hate that it happened. I didn't know it would... It wasn't supposed to be that way. I wasn't supposed to win like that." Ichigo said with a sullen whisper, the words simply pouring out, looking away from them with a mix of shame and aggravation. 

"Kurosaki..." Ishida murmured, as close to an apology as he could come to. 

"I stabbed you." He intercepted.  
"Inoue... must have been scared out of her wits." Ichigo mumbled, shutting his eyes with a clench of teeth and pulling the chair sharply, sitting himself back down, still refusing to look at any of them.  
He pushed his hands into his face, burdened anew. 

Urahara gave him a somber glance, and at the newfound silence in the room, raised his face to the ceiling with a sigh.

Perhaps none of them grasped the totality of it.  
He'd seen Inoue Orihime's face as she stood there watching the monitors.  
He'd heard the way the girl said the Arrancar's name.  
There was something about the scenario and her reactions that seemed to pull at him the wrong way, bearing down in comparison to all his centuries of experience with his comrade's social conduct and emotional weight.  
Standing there, with the Spiritual ribbons taking energy, while inflicting her with something foreign, it hadn't seemed at all that Inoue was frightened.  
In fact, she had seemed more... pained... than anything else.  
Her eyes didn't reflect the expression of someone reliving the aches of terror.  
It was primarily the emotion of someone filled with a sense of forlorn sadness.

She had come to them seeking something, and she was willing in her endeavor.  
It wasn't a move of someone avoiding bad memories, trying to move on. 

But Urahara revealed nothing.  
The girl would have to give her own answers. 

The man got up without another word and walked his geta across the room towards the monitors.

"Well, Kurosaki-san, what's in the past is past. And we're looking to fix whatever should be left there. So, I'll run you all through the footage we've managed to record, including the events unlocked by Inoue-san. And we can begin to solve this, after we're all on the same page." 

He turned towards them and gave a generous smile. 

"We won't give up until we do. And we'll give Inoue-san all the time she needs to speak for herself as well."

\---

There was a howling in her ears, and prickling coolness against her cheek.  
Another shove of wind roused the ginger-haired girl from her unconscious state, and she felt herself stirring to a quick consciousness remembering shrouds of panic. 

Inoue opened her eyes, and then cringed, blinking back a sandy grittiness that forced her dry lids closed. She pressed a palm to her scratchy eyes as they reacted to the pain, filling her corneas with more moisture. 

She grimaced as the wind slapped her with more granules, stirring wisps of sand around her legs and whipping her tattered white dress around her in a brief frenzy. 

Hueco Mundo.  
The sandstorm. 

It immediately registered and the girl raised herself with a sway, squinting at the desert around her. She continued to survey the endless expanse of white meeting with the black skies above.  
Her hand reached to her cheek, feeling the tautness of evaporated tear tracks and it came away with grains of sand on her fingertips.  
Brushing at herself slowly, she backed up and around, searching the area until her eyes finally landed on a familiar sight. 

The grove of trees were still there, much less majestic than they had been after the winds were done with them. They stood, ruined, half the height they initially were.  
Their mangled branches and weathered fragments got her back on her feet and into a steady, limping jog towards the area, her legs retorting with the fresh, sudden movement following long periods of latency. 

Her chest clenched remembering the terrifying sand storm and the Hollow trying valiantly to remain in those cluster of brambles.  
The slow panic crept into her and Inoue pushed a hand to the hems of her skirt lifting them to dash forward with frantic, bleary eyes scanning every which way for the creature's form. 

"Ulquiorra!" She called, before the dryness in the air snagged at the word, scratching down her throat, and she began to cough.  
She stopped and forced the papery rawness down with a swallow, continuing at a slower pace, struggling against the sinking of her feet into the powdery sand. 

"Ulquiorra, are you there?" She called again with a breathy scrape. 

The only sounds that answered were the steady howls of billowing wind.  
It moaned across the landscape, coasting over the brambles, shaking the branches with gentle icy tinkles.  
After another minute she finally reached the grove.  
And in her relief, she came to a standstill, shoulders bare from the way her dress had been ravaged by heavy blows.  
She staggered for a moment until her knees buckled from a weakness she hadn't anticipated, her quaking arms planting to support her. 

How long had it been since she arrived?  
How long had she been lying there since the storm's passing?  
Why was she even there?  
Wasn't she home?  
Was this all a dream?

She forced the thoughts away with the more pressing matter at hand, and the girl began lifting twigs and tossing them sideways, prying glimmering trunks to check behind them for any signs of the creature.  
She crawled on her hands and knees along the edges, lifting tangles and skirting through sharp roots with her bare arms.

Everything was so still and dead. 

Her motions became frantic as she pried crystals apart and brushed shards of bark aside. Until she realized, with a lift of her hand, that she had scratched herself in several places and was bleeding from a few deeper cuts.

Nothing...

Her eyes gave the tops of the crystal heap another once over before she slumped, raising her weary face to the rolling clouds.  
Inoue watched that crooked Hueco Mundo moon, the only bright, clear thing like a ship sailing in starless ocean skies. 

Had he left?  
Perhaps it was a good thing that she wasn't finding a body.  
But if he was gone...  
Was it because he'd truly disappeared after all?

An ache erupted in her chest at the second opportunity she might have failed to retrieve him. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle shuffle.  
Inoue quickly turned towards the sound, eyes searching and hopeful.  
Branches just barely ahead shaped like twisted fingers jostled with swaying movement and the tightening in her chest relieved itself slightly as she scrambled forward to have a closer look. 

The scuffling continued, and Inoue was leaning in until a shape abruptly scrambled out, forcing her to sharply recoil with a suppressed gasp.  
A large lizard the size of her forearm pattered out of the foliage, swiveling its Hollow skull at her with scrutiny, it tilted its head, yellow eyes darting over her form, its scaly neck bobbing. 

Her heart sank and she lowered helplessly, watching the creature finally shuffle off to scratch into roots before crawling towards the next bush. 

And then out of the silence, a pale, clawed hand she recognized reached out, swiping at the creature and grabbing it before she could even register the motion.  
She saw the reptilian disappear voicelessly, back into the thicket with a crackling splinter.  
And then there was nothing. 

Her eyes widened, heartbeat suddenly upping a notch as she stared into the tangles of amethyst.  
A slight fear came over her, but something else overcame it.  
Relief, that the Hollow was alive.  
This creature had once been Ulquiorra, the one who protected her.  
She couldn't leave him.  
Her hands squeezed together, trying to stifle her anxiety.

"Ulquiorra..." She attempted in a whisper.

After a moment of nothing answering back, Inoue fidgeted, sending pondering glances around before decidedly crawling closer.  
She steadied herself, sitting on her knees and stretched shaky, bleeding fingers towards the branches, blood trickling down her wrists as she gently parted the sharp bark.  
Curled into the center of a space barely containing him, she saw his emaciated form, twisted between spires of roots and branches.  
She held her breath trying her best not to startle him.  
And Inoue watched his horned mask slowly turn towards her, snapping a few twigs at the motion. 

What gazed back simply stole her breath.

Those beautiful emerald eyes, that belonged only to him.  
Bright with shards of reflected light from the trees, the entire sky and moon from the parting of the bushes, captured in the thick sheen that covered his striking irises.  
His expanding pupils watched her with the same calm emptiness, and she ached at the familiarity that resided there.  
At the many times during her captivity those eyes had met hers the same way.  
His palm jerked and Inoue saw the lizard he'd snatched, clutched in a steady grasp, wiggling in its feeble attempt to break free of its captor.  
The Hollow's attention wandered back to the source of his actions and he slowly looked down at the struggling reptile with a quiet interest.  
A long, taut arm braced, pushing against the brambles above him and to her horror he began pressing down on the creature's supple, pulsing body. 

Inoue inhaled sharply, eyes growing wide.  
The lizard seemed to know it was nearing its demise. It struggled more frantically, mouth opening and closing with small, sharp teeth in silent cries of panic and aggression as it thrashed its head and tail back and forth, lashing against the sand and fighting.  
The Hollow's grip only tightened, talon looking appendages curling over its soft back and belly, pushing until the pressure caused those yellow eyes to bulge ever so slightly.  
"Don't, please..." Inoue found herself begging. 

She looked at Ulquiorra, her mouth coming apart barely.  
But his eyes were fixated, bright and wide at the wriggling creature.  
He seemed fascinated, seeing it in its throes.  
He pushed harder and the lizard immediately froze for a moment, completely stunned with its mouth parted, before it ignited in the next few seconds with another burst of frantic motion.

"Ulquiorra, stop...!" She implored, unthinkingly lowering towards him.  
"It's a living thing. It's in pain. You don't have to kill something just for the sake of killing it, please remember?"

The Hollow didn't seem to hear her feeble attempts at persuasion, instead lowering his head to watch the struggle for survival from even closer, his horned helm sending shards of crystal like bits of glitter raining down over the struggling form. 

"Please don't do this!" Inoue repeated, trembling.

The lizard was slowly growing lethargic; it began to thrash less, seeming to sense the inevitable. Its mouth flapped open and close in silent gasps as it stared out at her, the gleams in its protruding eyes slowly beginning to dull with a soundless scream.

"Don't do it!!!" Inoue cried and she found herself reaching out in desperation, grasping his forearm tightly.  
She almost flinched at how startlingly hard it was, as if his entirety were armor. 

At the gesture, the Hollow froze. 

Those green eyes went from studying the wiggling reptilian to studying her hand with unraveling attention.  
He seemingly forgot the lizard underneath his palm, lifting his forearm slightly closer to his face to scrutinize those soft, slim, flesh-colored fingers.  
He didn't have a mouth, and that didn't at all mean he was harmless, but it helped her brave the motion regardless, and she held on, lips tightening.  
The lizard wiggled free, though the Hollow didn't seem at all interested in it anymore.  
And Inoue's breaths rushed out as the animal's throat bobbed with urgent breaths before it scuttled off, disappearing into dug-up sand. 

She turned her attention back to realize that he was no longer looking at her fingers, but straight at her. 

"Ulquiorra..." She spoke the name softly, looking his bony helmet over before locking on to his stare.  
Trying desperately to remind him, tilting forward.  
"Your name is Ulquiorra." came her heartfelt whisper.  
She gave a gentle squeeze at his arm.  
Something flickered behind those green depths, and the girl who was so used to seeing nothing there, felt her heart swell with hope at the tiniest spark of reaction. 

"Warm."

Inoue stilled, her breaths catching, hearing his voice again.  
That familiar quiet velvet, in her head.  
The Hollow merely looked at her with his vivid eyes. 

"Yes..." She found herself answering with a small smile.  
"Warm."

She lowered her palm, pressing it into his cold one.  
And then she slipped her other hand over his knuckles, feeling the hard curl of his claws mold into the softness of her flesh.  
His eyes lowered, those thick raven lashes spreading across the green.  
His fingers flexed lightly, testing the contact, and Inoue welcomed the response. 

There was another flicker, a seeming recognition as the horned helm lifted.  
Not from his face, because it was only a stone-carved weight, but simply from his glinting eyes alone.  
Those familiar vertical pupils pulsed in attentive study. They trailed her features from the tops of her wind-strewn, bright orange locks to the chaffed flush of her lips as a gradual awareness filled them.  
Silken, raven strands slid over his pointed shoulders and he gave a slow blink.

"... Woman." came the very quiet whisper.

Inoue's mouth trembled at the identified title and she softened into the sand.  
A relief and sudden tenderness curling into her chest as she watched him.  
And then she felt a tickling in her throat and gave a small laugh as her eyes began to moisten with confusing emotion.  
"I have a name, and I'm wondering if you ever really knew it."

He didn't answer to that.  
But there were so many questions she wanted to ask.

What was he doing here?  
What was it he finally knew when he began to disappear?  
Why had he reached out for her asking her if she still scared him?  
When he said something about her heart, and she hadn't had a chance to hear the rest of it, what did he mean?

What did he see?

Inoue watched his eyes leave her face to stare at the skies overhead.  
And she wondered what it was he was thinking about, seeing the moon and endless darkness.  
Her gaze fell back to his hand pressed between hers and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears remembering how she'd clutched at his disintegrating ashes.  
How she had looked at him with her heart squeezing painfully in her chest.  
Looked into his eyes, into that steady gaze that resiliently took hold of her despite every other bit of him crumbling away into the air.  
The one who protected her behind those towering marble halls.  
Cold, and unfeeling and entirely lethal - but careful, and patient and willing to entertain her, a human. 

A silly human girl who always cried and needed to be rescued. 

And he had hurt her, immensely, in the end.  
And he had abandoned her after all.  
But when he'd reached out to her, to only her, as if she were the only thing that mattered in that last moment...  
She already knew she'd forgiven him.

She sat there, knees folded, stirring with the beginnings of something she couldn't identify.  
It washed over her in dark waves and she shook in its chill, unable to look away when his eyes captured hers with quiet intensity.  
Those vast, green pools bore into her, and into their very depths she let herself fall.  
She hurtled with her vision, seeing a swirling green storm, pregnant with heaviness it couldn't contain.  
And it burst, like an ominous supernova, showering her entirety with pelting green rain seeping into her skin, into her bones, her very being.  
And she felt it, the magnitude of it all.

This was Ulquiorra. 

A heavy-hearted loneliness that pressed into her chest, stealing the shuddering breaths from her, a pure desperate anguish that shook her body with misery knowing she was so empty, so void of experiencing anything.  
It pained her immensely, so much that she couldn't breathe.  
She began to whimper, clutching his hand in hers, entirely sensitive to the immeasurable agony she couldn't identify.  
She felt as if she were the only one in the world, in all the worlds that ever and will ever exist, who didn't belong. And she wanted so badly, desperately to have something, someone, somewhere to belong to.  
To get rid of such heavy pain, so entirely vivid it tore into her chest with rigorous force and destroyed her, and ate her without mercy, relentlessly.  
She would rather disappear than feel this way, like every second was an eternity of despair.  
This emptiness.  
This nothingness.  
Tasteless, soundless, emotionless.  
Devoid of warmth and cold.  
And the joys and sorrows of feeling anything at all. 

She wanted to die from the deprivation of everything.  
Inoue didn't realize her tears beginning to cascade down her cheeks anew, droplets hitting the sand as she bent her head and let out a burdened, painful and uncontrollable sobbing.  
Her body broke down, limp with emotional devastation.  
She simply knew, without really comprehending - that this was what Ulquiorra was born from. 

But there was warmth.  
He had identified it.  
He could feel that. 

She raised her glazed gray eyes, looking him over, seeing him in a new light.  
And she crouched lower until his stare drew away from those glistening tears on her cheeks and settled back on her eyes. 

Love. Acceptance. Trust. Warmth. 

Love.  
Only Love. 

Inoue had never wished so badly that she could share it with him, Inoue had never felt anything so strongly.  
With brimming desperation, she lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed it firmly to her parted lips. She kissed at his armored grooves tenderly, her body wracking with apology and sadness and understanding at his level of torment.  
And she sobbed with her eyes tightly shut, between the gaps of his claws, her tears trickling over his fingers.  
She sobbed with all the empathy and feeling as she mourned for him. 

Something in her pushed itself up, fighting to the surface and breaking above it like a steady, growing ball of flaming strength.  
She wanted it so badly.  
She wanted to fix him, this broken creature.  
So he never feels this way again. 

"Oh, Ulquiorra." She whispered with choked sobs.  
"I'm so sorry." She nuzzled the hard grooves of his fingers before lowering his hand to her heart, crushing it against her chest, to feel the strong, resounding pounding of life.  
"I'm just so sorry..." She cried, crumbling into a weeping, heaving mess as she bowed her head.  
For a moment, even the wind stilled in suspense.  
Her stammering jerks of breath erupting over the desolate hills of white. 

And then very slowly there was a quiet shuffling, though she didn't notice it, lost in the torrents of her emotional distress.  
A hardness pressed gently into her forehead, jolting her and she lifted with a sniffling gasp.  
Ulquiorra's face settled against cheek.  
He moved until a ridge of bone brushed at her nose and the girl sat there forgetting to breathe, blinking slowly, shuddering with the remnants of pain.  
A dark tear-track mark caught at the moistness on her skin that trickled unsuppressed, and his eyes widened slightly at the contact. It brought with it a distant, faint thumping. A pulsing ignition of warmth into his emptiness, feeding him with every strong thrum. And he felt a reconstruction as the shattered fragments from the intimacy began to pull his very being together. Her tears filled him with something - a certainty - that she understood and fathomed the very depths of his despair. With a fluid motion, Ulquiorra moved with instinct, slipping his whole body out from the bushes, crouching closely her. 

His other arm wound around her back, pulling her to his solid body and as he rose, her face slid across his pale, tough bony collar and settled right beside that Hollow hole.  
Inoue looked up, catching a glimpse of his shadowed half-mast stare, that shade of dark pine in the intimate space between them. And then they disappeared as he closed his eyes and tightened into her with what the girl realized was a very real, almost painfully human embrace.   
In all the days she'd known him, he had never held on to her like this, so completely. 

Inoue felt her heart shatter and reform in one moment, and she cried against him, murmuring another string of apologies for things completely out of her control.  
And she didn't even realize it, but in the next moment her soul had decided with finality that she would take him away from this place.  
And he would never be alone.  
She would fill him with all her warmth until he realized he was no longer empty.  
Her hairclips shimmered, at first as if catching the moon's light. And then they began to emit a soft glow that gradually brightened between them. 

Ulquiorra's eyes opened to the lowering of a golden shield that enveloped him to the core for the first time with warmth. And he watched the girl as she raised her gaze blanketing him with a quiet acceptance he had never seen.  
They sat there in silence, two bodies entwined within a startling yellow canopy amidst a monotone world.  


"You are not nothing."  
She said with a firm whisper.

And she held her hands out to the sides of his face, touching at the bone surface of his mask and trailing her thumbs down those eternal tears of despair.  
Her fingers traced along the crack on his left side, remembering the moment the hurtling branch lampooned into it, causing the fracture. Her eyes swept over it with melancholy.  
A sound - quiet but apparent - came from somewhere above and Inoue watched as a fresh splinter began a jagged, shallow trail from the tips of his left horn. 

"Soten Kisshun." She recited.  
"You are not nothing. I reject." The certainty in her voice grew. 

Ulquiorra remained with his stare locked on hers, clinging as if she were everything he needed to comprehend.  
He didn't care for what she was saying.  
He didn't care for anything.  
Only that he felt somehow, that he finally seemed to find a place to belong. 

\---

"It looks like this first version you're showing us is simply what it is: Fortress surveillance footage. It even has timestamps and the dates."  
Ishida nudged his head at the monitor. 

"They should have timestamps on everything in a place like that. It always just looks like a fixed 9pm." Ichigo muttered, crouching in beside him. 

His eyes swept attentively across the screens, ensuring he hadn't missed a thing. 

There were servants that pushed carts, and carried baskets, and clothes down hallways.  
Doors opening and a various number of odd-looking white-coated Arrancar coming out from what looked like business meetings. It was almost comically human, if not for the briefcases being replaced with various sizes of deadly-looking weapons. 

A few of them huddled in threes having inaudible discussions in the hallway.  
There were even bouts of laughter erupting from some of them as one other sipped a steaming cup of coffee or tea. 

Ichigo looked up at footage of a large bloated creature that looked like an oversized toad with pustules and shackles, in a ridiculously stifling crate being hauled by slithering Hollows with snakelike appendages and salamander legs into an open backdoor where a pink-haired, sophisticated Arrancar with bone glasses stood waiting.  
"Hn. _Mala suerte*_."  
Ichigo's confused gaze fell sideways, looking Ishida over as he studied the same footage. 

"Mala-What?"

"Nothing."  
The archer mumbled back, pushing his glasses as they slid down his nose. 

There was a swiveling camera that constantly moved left and right, surveying the endless expanse of desert where constant bats and other flying creatures zipped past the lens before shifting to a yellow straw hut that seemed small until its sandy-blonde occupant emerged, jacket zipped up to her mouth.  
There was something regal about her along with a generous amount of chest startlingly obvious underneath her uniform.  
Three more women joined her side, wearing white uniforms of different designs.  
Two of them began to bicker and one began to cover her mouth with a long billowy sleeve, watching them from the sidelines.  
They all swiveled to attention when the blonde one faced them.  
And with a wave of her hand they broke off into a run and disappeared, speeding into the dark desert. 

They'd been watching for a few minutes, Chad being the most quiet one of the group, not speaking at all despite all the remarks the others had thrown out here and there. 

And then Urahara's arm rose, his green sleeve cutting off the other monitors from view as he pointed to one on the upper right. 

"Please direct your attention at this." He said almost delightedly.

The trio obediently looked, Ishida drawing back to straighten with his arms crossed over his chest in astute study, while Ichigo braced his arms in dominance and leaned forward with a sharp exhale.  
Chad merely brushed his bangs aside and rose to full height, raising his face. 

Ulquiorra.

Ichigo's hands unconsciously curled into tense fists. 

He emerged from a small doorway with his eyes closed.  
Ichigo's eyes narrowed, staring hard at that familiar white uniform as if the weight of his golden glare could crush him across the recalled feed like an ant.

The Cuatro Espada reached out towards the door he'd come from, sliding his palm across the opening, running it steadily along the grooves. It locked into place, and he turned away, slipping his hands into his pockets as he traversed down the hall with all the leisure of a Sunday walk.  
And then he saw another familiar figure.  
The shocking cyan burst of spikes that eased out from a corner, glowering at the smaller Espada. He pushed his face out at him with a snarl, but the other man continued along as if he wasn't there.  
Grimmjow cornered him, much too close for comfort and folded his arms bearing down with a glower.  
Ulquiorra by-passed him, gesturing with a hand in the air and the taller man stopped, vaguely punching at the nearest wall before stalking alongside him, veins bursting in his neck, tossing out what was obviously a long verbal string of aggression.  
The smaller man simply continued on with unbroken stride, unfazed at all the seething animosity. 

"Ulquiorra seems really calm, doesn't he." Urahara mused, raising his hand before remembering he wasn't holding his beloved paper fan.  
"That's exactly what makes him so annoying." Ichigo answered, a vague look of snarky distaste contorting his lips.  
"You mean 'dangerous', right?" Ishida raised an eyebrow.  
"Whatever. Obviously." The strawberry-blonde answered.  
"In another time and life, you and Grimmjow might just have gotten along."  
Ichigo's eyes almost popped out of his head at the archer's nerve to even associate him with that insolent, arrogant, violent, war freak.  
"What the hell, Ishida." He growled.

The two Espada stopped at the end of the hallway, and even Yoruichi began to watch just that monitor when Ulquiorra finally decided to face the man.  
He said something with a bare movement of lips so minute it was almost missed, and then raised his eyes. 

The look in them was terrifying.  
Even Ichigo felt a tingle in his guts. 

The taller man seemed to stiffen, caught off guard, and then he threw an arm out pushing it to his waist with a stretching grin before pointing rudely at the Cuatro Espada's chest and sauntering off. 

Ulquiorra just as easily continued towards his destination, turning right and running a palm again over the grooves of a door.  
They all watched him open it, expecting him to step inside.  
Only he didn't.  
He continued to linger there, eyes seemingly captured by something as he held the door open.  
He was speaking, and Ichigo unconsciously leaned closer as if he could catch what he was saying.  
"There's no audio, Kurosaki." The Quincy quirked his mouth, with a sideways glance.  
"I know that! Geez." The temperamental boy shot back, running a hand irately over his spikes.  
And then they both fell into a sudden silence because out of the doorway stepped their beloved ginger-haired friend.  
Ichigo's eyes widened as she gave a small laugh and slightly bowed, looking flustered.  
Ulquiorra stepped up to her, his eyes sweeping her form.  
She gave a tilt of her head and held a small package up to him.  
This time both Ishida and Ichigo leaned in.  
They squinted until the raven-haired boy was the first to pull back with startling realization. 

"O... nigiri?" The Quincy disjointedly asked, blinking. 

Ulquiorra stood there for a moment, and then the Arrancar very gently reached up to take it.  
Ichigo's jaw dropped.  
The Cuatro Espada held the triangular package a little too far from his face for inspection. Almost disgusted, really, judging from the way he was barely pinching one corner.  
At the gesture, the girl immediately launched into an almost animated flurry of gestures, fishing around her dress pockets comically.  
And then she'd extracted another packet with a flourishing, triumphant smile.  
It was red, and they knew exactly what it was. 

"Red bean paste." Everyone declared together.

Ichigo could almost laugh all of a sudden.  
His eyes softening as he watched her.  
Contrary to what he'd always thought, she wasn't always kept in chains, or beaten or abused at all. She didn't seem to be doing too badly, now that he'd seen this.  
She was just the same old her.  
Wherever she was placed, kidnapped or not, against her will or no...  
Inoue always seemed to bring her brightness with her. 

They watched with a sudden building tension as she stepped closer, poking once at the package, seemingly unaffected by the close proximity of such a potent killing machine inches from her. She traced around the tips of the package, lips moving with a flow of narration, and then she looked up at him candidly with a smile.  
Ulquiorra closed his eyes for a moment, and there was a slight pause as she lingered blinking at him. She lowered slightly, deflating with a few words and looking down.  
Her hands reached up to her bosom and she twirled idly at her ginger locks. 

And then Ulquiorra gave her a look.  
A long, long look. 

Ichigo didn't realize he was holding his breath. 

And before he knew it, the Cuatro Espada had reached up with one hand and pried around the packaging, slipping it open with ease and a fixated, green stare.

The three friends' eyes all widened a fraction, completely engrossed. 

Ulquiorra lifted the rice ball with all the grace of royalty, and began to open his mouth...  
\- And then Inoue grabbed at his wrist, jerking the package before it reached the tips of his teeth.

Ishida drew a sharp intake of breath and Ichigo almost slammed his head into Urahara's braced arm.  
"What is she doing!" He declared, stupefied, his heart barely leaping to his throat in tension.  
"Calm down. She's alive now, isn't she?" Ishida brushed away his earlier reaction with a clearing of his throat and straightening composure. 

"Tch. Maybe barely by the skin of her teeth. Geez! What was she-"

Ichigo's voice died in his throat because Ulquiorra had gone very still.  
His shoulders tensed and he gave a slow angle of his head to level her with a sharp stare before lowering that stare down to the fingers on his wrist.  
But Inoue wasn't looking at him, she was busy squirting the red bean paste all over the top of that rice ball in a happy bubbling of unheard words. 

From the side, Ichigo could see Chad recoil with a brief look of aversion.  
The Quincy closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to sigh in relief.  
"Inoue-san." He chastised to himself with a tick of an eyebrow. 

They stood there in silence.

And they watched as the Cuatro Espada, the only Espada who held two resurreccións under his belt, who plunged his fist into victim's chests without so much as a blink, who literally rained Reiatsu because of its heavy brunt, who broke bones and snapped arms in two simply with his fingers, and killed Shinigami-Hollow-Humans in front of despairing women just to prove a point... lifted that rice ball and gave it a small lick.

Inoue positively glowed, her face leaning in at him, large doe eyes roving with pent-up anticipation.  
Ulquiorra's eyes didn't leave hers, and he opened his mouth, taking a more meaningful, but chaste bite. 

"... They can eat our food?" Ichigo dumbly asked.  
It was all he could ask at that point, seeing as his mind had fallen into shock and was drawing a very big blank. 

Inoue clapped her hands together once and broke out in a big smile.  
And Ulquiorra turned away, enough from the camera's view that nobody could predict what expressions were flitting over that stoic face, if expressions were even possible.  
It was disconcerting to say the least. 

Even Chad had gone slack, his masculine, tough-as-steel demeanor falling apart in front of the scene. 

The Cuatro Espada began walking and their ginger-haired friend followed closely behind with a short bouncing gait. And then they had disappeared down the corner. 

... 

Urahara broke the heavy shock of transpired events with a small "Phew!"  
"Now that you've seen that, I would like to think it sheds new light on her captivity, doesn't it?"

Nobody answered, simply because they were still too busy getting a hold of their bearings and adjusting the lag in their brains. 

And just as quickly, as if on point...  
A strange feeling rushed into the room, erupted into it, really.  
A small burst of energy that quickly spread like ceiling fire, igniting the corners of the shopkeeper's computer room, pressing down on its occupants. 

The Quincy was the first one to raise his head with a subtle flicker in his onyx eyes.  
And then Yoruichi ran towards the exit with nothing else but a firm call of the ex-captain's name.  
Even Ichigo felt uneasy in that moment, eyes flitting up to the vents.  
And then he knew something big had happened when he caught a glimpse of Urahara's hardened face as he rose and followed with a strong gait.

"Inoue-san." Ishida's low voice breathed.

"What is it??" The orange-haired boy lurched back so quickly the foldable chair behind him collapsed backwards with a clatter.  
The Quincy turned to face him, a telltale disturbance in his features as his mouth opened in an attempt to phrase things accurately.  
"She's using Shun-Shun-"  
The archer hadn't even finished his sentence when Ichigo shoved away from the steel counter, dashing towards the door.  
"Wait!" The raven-haired man blurted, stretching sideways to reach out for the Substitute Shinigami's sleeve and barely clutching at the very tips that broke away from his grasp. You might hurt yourself, Kurosa-"

He snapped his arm down with a jerk and a curse, not bothering to continue. 

Chad jogged past him, not without placing a heavy pat on his back, silently signaling for him to forget the implication of weakness and just follow the stubborn boy. 

"Tch." The Quincy grimaced and gave the vials and monitors one last glance before breaking into a slow run tailing the rest. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for kudos and comments. :3
> 
> Secondly, the term *mala suerte, spoken by Ishida, means "bad luck" or "misfortune."  
> It's a reference to the 8th Espada's habit of saying it when he stumbles upon him and Renji, and tries to imply their unfortunate demise.  
> He mentioned it during their fight, and Ishida mocked him for it as he pulled his arrow back with a surprise attack. 
> 
> *Suerte - meaning "luck" is also a common phrase spoken by 10th Espada Yammy.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and as always, till the next update!!!
> 
> \- Second_Best


	12. Urahara's Sweet Shop: Underground level II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Chapter is up!  
> It might be shorter, but I felt I just had to clip this into one and get it over with.  
> Revelation, mostly. 
> 
> And an utter lack of Ulqhime, I'm really sorry about that.  
> Hopefully, the quick pace of events make up for it!
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> Thank you for commenting!  
> Thank you for kudos.  
> And for those of you who faithfully keep coming back, I love you guys. :D
> 
> I appreciate it, from the bottom of my heart. 
> 
> \- Second_Best

One moment, they were tidying up the store with the usual exchanges of noncausal bickering flung playfully like a tossing game from one person to the other. 

The next moment, Tessai had suddenly dropped his cleaning mop, forgetting his grip on it as his bulking body flooded with a perceptive internal shock.  
The handle clattered to the wooden floor, rolling slightly away from his planted slippers as a low thrum began to quake in the atmosphere. 

The man's eyes narrowed behind the frames of his translucent, gleaming spectacles. And he pushed away from a startled Jinta, who just as quickly, rose with wide eyes from the shelf he'd begrudgingly started to wipe. 

The quaking began to fill the particles in space, squeezing in with the atoms of matter, filling their gaps with disturbance and causing them to vibrate with an overall tingling frenzy of energy that seeped into the resident's physical Gigai forms. 

"What the hell is that?" The red-haired child dryly rasped, barely able to coax his vocal cords because of the squeezing pressure that was beginning to envelope his whole body.  
And just as he managed the question, a sudden thick pulse of Reishi exploded without warning around them, like a strong gust filling into the room.  
Ururu gave a muffled gasp from behind her small wrist as the force sent her pigtails whipping, almost pitching her whole feeble weight backwards.  
The girl's scant knees gave a sharp jerk at the brunt of it and she buckled, barely managing a crouch with her own Spiritual Energy fighting the onslaught. 

Tessai gathered her to him protectively, almost concealing her entire form behind one broad, steely arm as he raised his head with surprise.  
The taller boy recoiled instinctively towards him, his mouth parting wordlessly. 

In the next moment, all space and substance seemed to leave the room. Like the very particles of nature had been sucked into a vacuum so completely they felt a choke from the lack of oxygen.  
And just as quickly, all that gathered substance and life was suddenly flung back out in one grand pulse that swept through the room, spreading outwards in a golden ripple, slicing through the air over the products on the shelves, pushing up the walls and into the ceiling, and coasting down over the lower cabinets and the floor like one grand atomic sonar blip. 

The printed cartons in their wooden compartments jostled very slightly and one rectangular packet from the rice-crackers section finally teetered over the edge of its shelf, tumbling.  
The pulse of light caught it like a sweeping scanner and it seemed to momentarily freeze in the air... 

\- And then it disappeared, only to fill the exact space it had fallen from.  
Not as if the motion had been literally rewinded, but as if it had been erased and restored. 

Tessai's beady eyes grew large, and he instinctively grabbed Jinta's collar and shoved Ururu behind him watching the mop he'd previously dropped suddenly engulfed in gold.  
In the next moment, it was back in his loosened hand.  
And then in a quick succession of lapses, Jinta's rag slapped into his chest and Ururu's floor towel appeared a full meter across the floorboards away from her.  
Another second ticked, and then there was a slamming rearrangement of packets that pulled out and jerked in disarray all around them as if they'd never tidied up at all. 

Tessai shot up to his full height, unable to comprehend amidst the bubbles of exclamation and whimpers from the smaller forms clinging to his waist. 

Slowly, a trickling prickle brushed almost teasingly over him.  
A darker feeling flowing with ease into his awareness.  
Much thicker, and completely different from the former. 

For all the familiar, warm, bright energy the first burst grandly celebrated...  
The second only seemed to oppose with equal darkness, surreptitious terror and negativity.  
It stealthily moved with fluidity along the spaces, making his very belly shudder before the energy dissipated, growing faint as it sunk into the cracks. 

"Inoue Orihime." He said with gravely certainty, a sudden concern twisting at him.

"Both of you." Tessai quickly jerked to the two uneasy forms as they looked up at him. "Run to the underground shed. Ururu, seal the area with the spell I taught you. Jinta, lead the way."

Jinta opened his mouth in hesitance and the mustached man gave him an all-too-serious and intolerant shove towards the door. "Go! Now."  
His command was rapid and clipped, leaving no room for opposition. 

The red-haired boy's fiery eyes shook with conflict as his legs parted with the urge to stay and protect. And then it was gone with the next fearful shudder of the walls.  
He bore down with a clench of teeth giving one last rebellious growl before he reached out and grabbed Ururu's wrist, breaking into a run and dragging her stumbling, squeaking form out the door. 

Tessai pulled his navy blue apron above his head roughly, and tossed it without mind over the cookies he so lovingly arranged. 

He broke into a quick lumbering gait towards the back rooms, flexing his arms.  
His mind snapping into action with all the experience of more than a century, recalled in that slowing moment during which he traversed the short hallway.

The former Captain of the Kido Corps had barely reached the room, when another thrum of the same golden warmth knocked into his resilient form.  
He pried the sliding doors open all the way to its edges, only to be greeted by a blinding slap of light that caused him to squint despite his UV protective glasses.  
He blinked abruptly, burly arm whipping up to shield himself as he waited for his pupils to adjust. 

A large shield had taken form in the room.  
Held on two stretched corners, spreading out like a glimmering canopy over the girl's sleeping form.  
Her delicate eyebrows were drawn together in fixed concentration, her mouth pulled at the corners with a tense frown.  
Wetness glistened over her cheeks, with still more, freshly trickling from beneath her thick, dampened eyelashes.  
Her chest was heaving and jerking with stifled squeaks and Tessai realized she'd been crying. 

For how long, he didn't know. 

She stiffened with another shuddering bubble of hitching breaths, and Tessai's eyebrows rose in concern as he slid forward on his knees, mouth opening to utter a gruff "Orihime-chan!"  
The unconscious girl's eyebrows only dug into creases even deeper and her fists gave a jerk, curling minutely into the covers.  
The towering man caved, purposefully reaching out to her helpless form when a firm grip snagged into the thin fabric of his white shirt and pulled him backwards with a harsh command. 

"... Don't." 

Tessai whirled at the shopkeeper's familiar voice just as the golden shield intensified, suddenly slicing with ferocity through the space where his arm had been poised merely seconds ago. The solid, translucent edges closed into the floor, leaving no gaps or space to reach her. 

And then Yoruichi's nimble form had shot across Tessai's vision as she leapt in from behind, flipping effortlessly above his head and careening to the separate corner of the room.  
The woman hopped backwards lightly with all the grace of a cat before crouching low into the ground with one arm suspended and coiled.  
Her head jerked up, bright eyes already scrutinized the very tops of the shield as it continued to ascend, its very tips beginning to press into the ceiling. 

A burst of footfalls followed and the trio that was Orihime's friends, stumbled through the scene, coming to sharp stops behind the mustached man, barely pitching him forward as they stacked into him one by one. 

Urahara's wooden sandals clopped past his struggling assistant as he, more calmly than the rest, made his way with robes streaming, towards the corner closest to the door to settle opposite Yoruichi.  
The woman gave him a brief glance before whipping her ponytail away from her face and lifting a shoulder with a mute glower at the scene before them. 

"Someone tell me what happened!"  
Spikes of orange hair whipped into view, golden eyes wide and straining as Ichigo burst to the forefront space unconsciously left there by his companions.  
"Inoue?" His voice rose with a squeeze, seeing the distress on her face.  
"... Oh, god. Why does she look so... - Inoue!" He exclaimed desperately.  
Urahara sharply pushed a robed arm out across the doorframe, effectively cutting Ichigo off at the startling authority of the gesture. 

"Don't wake her." The sandy-haired ex-Captain murmured, eyes unmoving and vigilant as he studied the girl's form. 

"... Don't do anything." He steadily finished. 

The Quincy stood stock-still at the sight, shallow breaths hissing out from his tightening throat despite his outwardly leveled demeanor.  
His eyes were wide with unsuppressed disbelief at the amount of Reiatsu coming from their unconscious comrade. 

It had never been so... strong.  
To say it was a shock when he felt it in the tunnels was an understatement.  
The dirt had flown over them and for a second he'd even had to pause a little from the push of the brunt.  
He had never known Inoue-san to possess such a willful bulk of spirit energy.  
But it felt strangely familiar.  
Just like the time Chad released a second stage to his Brazo with his formerly ordinary left arm.  
The sky-rocketing vitality of his willpower had more than thrown the Quincy off with surprise as it was completely on a different level when it was unleashed. 

Ishida's eyes flicked sideways to the muscular Hispanic, who was equally ascetic in his composure. But the archer, above anyone, could tell the man wasn't entirely unaffected, judging by how his muscles had begun to strain under the skin of his throat as he swallowed.

Sado-san had mentioned Hueco Mundo strengthened his power and finally exposed him to an evolution that led to the awakening his lethal La Muerte punch...  
\- That his being in that desert filled with spirit particles almost made him feel like his powers had 'come home' to where they originated. 

Did Hueco Mundo have the same effect on Inoue-san?

The Quincy tore his eyes away and looked down at her, uneasy, as his psychic sensitivity fumbled trying to grasp the sheer force of her familiar, yet more than tenfold increase of Reiatsu. 

If he was even right, the energy in the room seemed to exceed the strength of the shield she constructed during the Cuatro Espada's battle, when she believed Ichigo was already dead. And even then, he'd already noticed the obvious increase in her abilities compared to what they had been before her disappearance. 

He didn't know how to feel about this startling discovery.  
The idea that something more momentous that Ichigo's demise had pushed her to become stronger...  
Was that even possible?

Eitherway, at this rate she wasn't done growing at all, he realized with disbelief. 

Did it have to do with the willpower of her soul?  
And was it also because of her exposure to the Hogyoku in Las Noches?

The golden glow of her Soten Kisshun ground into the floorboards, shaking at the cracks until the wood began to splinter and groan from the weight of compressed Spiritual Particles. 

"Tessai." Urahara evenly called, expression unreadable from under the fringe of his hat.  
The towering Kido specialist turned, lifting his framed gaze to him.  
"Please construct your high-level Kekkai barrier around the shop to suppress this Reishi, it's going to start attracting attention soon if we don't."  
The shopkeeper's jaw was firmly set as he spoke. 

There was a pause in the room. 

"But, Urahara-sama..." Tessai began with a mumble.  
They all watched as the towering man poked almost comically at his bulging pecs, wordlessly reminding the ex-Captain with a few twitches of his mustache and a wiggling of his bushy brows - that he was using a Reishi-suppressing Gigai.

Urahara's mouth pulled down in a concentrated frown and he gave a few distended blinks. And then he pushed his hands to his head and let out a very misplaced, childishly sheepish laugh, causing an awkward incredulity to fill the room as everyone gawked with deadpan expressions.  
"Ohhhhhh yes! A-Ha-ha-haha! My Apologies."  
From across him, Yoruichi gave a twitch and sharply cleared her throat. 

Before anyone could get another word in, he lifted his cane and pushed its handle against the man's stomach - ejecting Tessai's Spirit Body from its wheezing deflation of a physical form now crumpling to the side like a shriveled inflatable. 

The burly man stepped forward and nodded sharply with a flick of his mustache.  
"Now, then." came the rumble. 

He pushed his hands up, and without any sort of incantation at all quickly began charging a crackling blue bolt that gathered in itself, rolling with streaks of energy into a building spherical mass. 

The trio watched with bated breath as the shop-keeper's assistant held his palms closely together, compressing a startlingly impressive Reiatsu they had no idea he'd possessed, before lowering into the floor and firmly planting his hands down into the boards with a grunt. 

A shock of ignition zipped across the vertical planks, vibrating along the soles of their feet. It caused Ishida to slightly jerk and he watched the blue traces shoot out amidst the golden shield, disappearing past it, into the cracks in the corners. 

The whole building gave a creaking groan in response before a massive reverberation shook dust from the banisters, and the whole place shuddered in finality before growing eerily still.  
Any outside sounds they'd heard until then, including the wind and the birds, completely disappeared.  
Only a deafening silence ensued, compressing down over the rising suspense. 

"The shop is barricaded." Tessai gruffly mumbled, rising to his full height.  
"She's crying." The Substitute Shinigami's low voice broke into the heightening moment.  
"Damn it, Inoue is _crying_. Why?" He quietly bit out, feeling a need to stifle his voice as his ears popped from the stillness. 

Ishida eyed him.  
The man was slightly shaking, widening stare unable to hide his growing concern.  
The cords in his forearms bulked with quivering anxiety as he held himself with all the control of a dam about to bust.

"Ichigo, calm down..." The raven-haired boy murmured as gently as he could.  
_There's nothing we can do right now,_ came the unwanted whisper that persistently trickled into his mind.  
The Quincy shut his eyes, mouth tightening, suppressing the urge to say anything else. 

"We need to do something." The Substitute Shinigami's voice fiercely stated, as if hearing the archer's thoughts.  
"We need to wake her."  
The orange-haired boy turned expectantly with a whip of spikes at the shopkeeper.  
" Urahara-san!"  
The man remained deathly still, his face once again unreadable and not bothering to send him a glance. 

Ichigo felt a rising trepidation slowly beginning to choke at his windpipe. He fought the coils of tension twisting along his stomach and turned towards the purple-haired woman on the other side of the room.  
Seeing her standing there just as motionless, he could merely project a dubious stare. 

"Damn it." He ground out, the hairs on his neck prickling.  
He pitched himself forward and Chad immediately clutched at a shoulder.  
"Let me wake her!" Ichigo growled, jerking Chad's hand aside and trying to push past Ishida's restraining hold. 

"Kurosaki-san." The shopkeeper firmly said in an authoritative tone.  
It surprisingly succeeded at giving the temperamental boy more pause than his friends' physical attempts at restraints. 

Urahara remained unmoving, cautiously discerning her form. 

"It's not wise to disrupt Shun-Shun Rikka when she's like this. Anything we do will be a last resort. We don't know how it will affect us, but more importantly, her. Being unconscious, she doesn't possess physical awareness. It's too dangerous to tamper with her active soul."

"I don't understand..." Ichigo grated with a breath, beginning to feel his tolerance for inaction shattering. 

"Please remember that Inoue-san's power does not work the same way yours does." The shopkeeper softly explained.  
"Zangetsu manifests while you are in your Shinigami form and your physical body becomes a separate entity while you use it. With Inoue-san, however, she performs her abilities with her soul working directly through her physical body.  
If we sever her soul's power now while it is in full use, there is a risk she might not wake up at all. Her physical body and her mind might perceive her to be fully-awake and in turn, keep her in that unconscious state."  
"What do you mean... Are you saying that - ... She can fall into a comma?" Ichigo's voice trembled imperceptibly.  
Chad straightened with the first semblance of worry. 

Urahara's eyes lifted, a weighty guilt clouding the golden gray flecks before he looked ahead.  
"I'm very sorry. Let's try to observe it for now. Please be patient."

The strawberry-blonde slammed an open palm against the door at that, pushing his forehead down on it with a frustrated curse at the beginnings of a very real, and persistently nagging fear growing inside him.

"I can't believe we're just letting this happen..." He whispered after everyone remained silent.  
His eyes opened to slits that reflected his desperation.  
"She looks like she's in pain. I... can't stand seeing her like this."  
Those intense warm eyes swept over her grimacing form as she twisted almost indiscernibly with a clipped inhale, like some strangling force was taking a hold of her.  
She'd been so calm and peaceful only just moments ago.  
What's happening?  
He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers tightening into the doorframe, unable to contain the visual overload tipping his emotional scales through the roof. 

"... We should trust her."

Ichigo's lids rose slowly and he looked at the tall, broad-shouldered man standing beside him. Chad lowered his chiseled face to him, lips tight, his eyes still concealed behind a curtain of hair. 

"Inoue is stronger than we think. Most of the time, we only want to protect her. But in exchange, we don't give her much of a chance. We underestimate her abilities." He murmured, lifting with a slight tilt.  
His brown eye considered the conscious occupants of the room briefly before it once again disappeared with a slide of bangs. 

At his friend's composure and at the startling realization of his words, the orange-haired man felt himself draw back, a newfound steadiness pulling his form together and realigning his finicky impulses.  
"Sado..." He whispered, almost apologetic for his foolish tenacity. 

"He's right about everything."  
Ishida contributed his own assurance, giving Ichigo a pointed look that only softened because of his mouth's subtle, upturned curl.  
He tapped at the frame holding his glasses, trying to undo his own tension with the familiar gesture. Gathering his own bearings from their friend's truthful reminder.  
"I've never seen her Reiatsu so powerful. And it seems she's negating something, doesn't it? She's fixing something in her own way."  
"Yes. Inoue-san is definitely negating... something." Urahara answered in a low voice. One that lost all its usual casualty, replaced now only with a brimming tightness barely underneath.  
A tell-tale ghost of worry came over those shadowed eyes, so subtly one might have missed it just as he began to turn.  
And then his face had once again focused entirely on the girl. 

Ishida felt his feelings begin to waver at that.  
His mouth flattening into a taut line, having caught such a caustic, uncharacteristic expression from the shopkeeper.  
He couldn't stop the sudden nervousness that skittered over his skin even as he valiantly tried to brush the squirming ugliness of it away. 

That discerning mind worked to assess the situation and the Quincy gave each of the former Captains from Soul Society a look, lifting his sharp gaze to discover that Tessai was unbearably still and Yoruichi was still holding her defensive stance, unable to bring her guard down as the slow seconds stretched. 

Their unconscious friend continued to whimper constantly. 

The Quincy began to feel an unsettled feeling of something about to go wrong.  
The sensation continued to grow, like an unwarranted coldness.  
Like a coming premonition in the noticeable silence of the room.  
And it was one of those times that the archer hated knowing he was almost always right about his intuition. 

Tessai stirred, his eyebrows lowering attentively.  
He hadn't forgotten that other presence remaining in the confines with them.  
It was still there, like a silent creature watching the situation from the rafters, with a patience so tolerant it could wait for whole planets to birth and die.  
Behind his spectacles, his sharp, beady eyes darted back and forth along the tops of the shield until those marble irises widened, fixing themselves on a green wisp curling under one of the shield's slopes. 

It had concluded its findings.  
It began to move. 

His hairs bristled on alert and he wordlessly angled a look at Urahara, only to see that his childhood friend's eyes were fixed on the very same thing, albeit almost undetectably from under that hat.  
There was no sign of a reaction apart from a minute jerk of the man's fingertips as they brushed at the curl of his cane. 

As if on point, his low voice broke the pregnant silence.  
"Yoruichi. Tessai."  
His forefinger pushed at the wooden hilt of his concealed sword. 

"Aa." The mustached man confirmed gruffly, keeping his eyes on the foreign Reiatsu.  
"It seems to be growing." Yoruichi mumbled from across the room, rolling her shoulders back and freeing the knots that had gathered in the coil, oiling her well-conditioned parts in mounting preparation. 

"What's growing?" Ichigo steadily asked, trying to push down the warning bells in his head even as he forced all his discipline into setting a surface of calm. 

Ishida's eyes widened, finally spotting the gathering swirls of a luminous, green cloud.  
It was about the size of his fist...  
And then, barely a second later, it was the size of an opened hand...

And before any of them could react, the green had exploded outwards like a miniature storm on a timelapse, moving towards all sides; the smoky swirls pushing into the golden shield's canopy, growing more wisp-like curls and clawing like invisible talons with staggering speed towards the edges until the whole concave surface of that warm shield was in the glossy condensing layer of its menacing presence - A fog machine spewing cyanide over a polycarbonate dome. 

Inoue was beginning to look like a victim of execution inside a compressed gas chamber. 

Even Ichigo saw it now.  
He pushed up sharply, uttering the ginger-haired girl's name, as the three former captains jumped into action. 

"Tessai." Urahara sharply called.  
The burly man flew forward, slamming his palms together, his fingers blurring into two intricate stances of hand-seals.  
"Bakudo Ninety-nine -" He announced in a clear tenor.  
"Temple Gates of Space and Time. The invoked on'yomi. Unlock the gates, rise and fill. The moon sets with the Sun eternal-"  
The Quincy's eyes widened, hearing the announcement of such a high-level spell.  
He didn't hear the rest of the incantation as the man's voice faded amidst his building incredulity.  
This was quite possibly...  
"- Forbidden kido." He whispered as the former Captain continued with the rest of the invocation on the powers that be, his mind still unconsciously rifling through the many books he'd devoured on the topic.  
It was practically taunting incarceration!  
And with that thought, the archer's dread spiralled and his breath snagged at the realization that this situation was far more grave than the expert kido users in the room let on.  


And then the other former Captain in the green robes had stepped forward, raising one hand into a two-fingered seal, locking it firmly with an intent stare.  
He lowered his face, hat dipping, and spoke with startling clarity.  
"Bakudo Ninety-nine - Blazi-" 

The next words of the chant didn't get a chance to leave his mouth.  
He jumped in surprise as Inoue's golden shield ejected three separate beams of solid light that shot towards his legs, almost with the speed of a shunpo flash step. 

Urahara doubled back, avoiding the first two jabs with the instincts of a man who'd parried a multitude of surprise attacks in varying speeds, before propelling at the air and using the force of his body to contort in a sideways kick, barely making it past the third slash. 

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly, and that was all the response elicited when he felt its strike.  
At such close range it was almost impossible to avoid.  


With a backwards skip, he landed, wooden sandals clattering.  
He stumbled for a moment, off-balance, giving one foot a glance and discovering with a lift of ankle that the ridge of one of his geta had been seared right off, the glowing embers of the attack still shimmering across the slice. 

He instantly recognized the familiarity of the damage.  
_Inoue's Shiten Koshun._  
How had the combined 'attack and repel' of the girl gotten so fast?

The man's eyes widened, casting the shield a quick glance.  
True enough, a light like a comet shot forward within the husk, manifesting into solidity.  
Its bulking tip broke away to reveal a folded rocket beginning to zip along the confines of the enclosure, circling in undulating motion with blinding speed around Inoue's troubled form as the green wisps compressed into one corner.

The surface of the golden shield seemed to grow still with the shimmering ripples vibrating over the slopes, visibly beginning to slow.  


Tessai's Space-Time incantation was finally beginning to take effect, starting over the tops of the shield and steadily forging downwards.  
Urahara noted the hibiscus shard zipping around the center slide to a halt, loitering suspended above Inoue's form.  


Far removed from his usual despondence now, his gaze swivelled sideways, following those strange beams descending straight into the floorboards.  
And then his eyes had sprung wider, reacting to the sound of particles being charged filling the room.  
Drawing his attention back to the source, Urahara's mouth tightened as the green thickness ejected through those newly forged paths.  
Tessai's technique was momentous, and in consequence took more time.  
And it had failed to stifle the quick-acting smog that had flattened itself to floor-level like a cunning sentient being avoiding a medieval trap.  
That ominous darkness spilled into the glimmering tunnels of light, shooting forward with Inoue's energy, using the lines as effortlessly as if it were electricity zipping through power cables.  
Ulquiorra's Reiatsu disappeared past the floor, surging on, more and more clearing out of the shield at a steady retreat.  


The forbidden spell couldn't encompass the area beyond Inoue Orihime's original structured dome.  
"Bakudo 99 - Kin!" came Tessai's quick follow-up response in a clipped incantation.  
Black Spiritual Fabric shot out from the burly man's Reiatsu, stretching out to wrap over and around the golden canopy and outwards shadowing the three beamed pathways. 

The fabrics clamped over the gold and small black gates flew down one after the other, slamming like guillotines over the paths trying to stifle the traveling energy in them.  
It nipped right behind the green Reiatsu, chasing its tail until the last of the boards flew over the space in the planks where the beams disappeared entirely.  
The final gate slammed down over a sliver of green, trapping the small curl, while the rest of it slipped free and down into the gaps. 

"Ohhhhh, dear." Urahara mumbled, giving Tessai a brief look. 

Ichigo took a step back, staring at the scene while growing ever powerless in a sense of numb disbelief.  
Conflicting thoughts raged, and he forced them down knowing he could do nothing.  
His eyes hardened with a slight lacing of fear that he quickly forced down despite his current incapability. And the boy watched the two former male Captains in the room, shaking suddenly with the growing familiarity of his helplessness. 

Beside him, Ishida stood poised with an arm out, his bracelet hanging suspended.  
Chad was on the opposite side, his Brazo formed, brazenly powered in streaks of black and red.  
They both stood curled and ready to fight. 

And him?

His eyes lowered in a combination of humiliation and crippled distress.  
He bowed his head, shutting his eyes, wishing somehow he could just disappear even while his very being wrestled against the idea of being useless, wanting to cry out more imposingly present than ever. 

Yoruichi was the first to dash out past them and down the hallway. 

Ichigo opened his mouth to ask where she was going, but the words died in his throat, futile, when she disappeared swiftly with a flash step. 

"Stay with Inoue-san." came the calm command.  
Ichigo jerked his face up to meet with Urahara's solid gaze.  
"The three of you. Stay with Tessai and don't leave the room, please." 

Something in the Substitute Shinigami bubbled up to the surface.  
It clawed at his throat, overwhelming him like the ripping holler he threw out with that deadly slash every time he announced his 'Getsuga Tenshou!'  
Only now, standing there in that moment, Ichigo could feel no power growing confidently behind his voice at all.  
The compressed need to declare something stayed like a thick, painful ball of spikes at the edge of his windpipe, and he could do nothing but push his face sideways and confirm the command with a brief nod.  
He barely felt the shopkeeper's hand on his shoulder before the man was gone in a slash of green blurs. 

\---

Yoruichi smashed through the wooden trapdoor and shot down the dirt tunnel before the torches could even ignite.  
It was already there, encased in the girl's energy, zipping forward at the speed of all the glowing light that aided it.  
That Arrancar's essence, all around her, choking at her throat as her citrine eyes scanned the uneven walls.  
She instinctively chased after it, following its lightning fast travel, like shunpo speed rivaling equally impressive sonido.  
Everything about it spelled trouble, everything about it was disgustingly oppressive and glum and strikingly deadly.  
It was terrifying, even in ridiculously small quantities.  
Ulquiorra's Reiatsu penetrated into the dirt and swooped overhead, streaming out into the place she knew it would finally infiltrate.  
She set her jaw, flying forward as her consciousness continued to track the dark energy before it sharply deflected sideways forging through the dirt in a shorter path, almost disappearing from her awareness entirely. 

She cursed, running blindingly towards the end of the small hollowed out mouth to the training grounds, skidding to a sharp stop at the section where Urahara's Reiatsu lingered as an imprint over the hidden entrance.  
In one concentrated heave, she threw all her arm's weight into the section with one impossibly strong punch and a roaring cry, shattering the man's hundredfold seal and forcing her way through the crumbling soil and into the stark white hallway. 

"Ohhhh, come on." came a desolately flat exclamation.  
"I spent a lot of time fixing those entry ways after the last time."  
The man's voice was actually whining. Whining! - As he followed from shortly behind, wooden sandals drumming their familiar clunks, his cane swinging over the motion of his surging robes.  
"Shut it and focus, Kisuke... This is serious!" Yoruichi roughly bit out with a sideways turn of her head, barely sending his deflating form a glower.  
His presence was an unwarranted comfort nonetheless and the woman accepted the inappropriate statements as his small reward.  
In a blurring flash, she'd reached the mouth of the confines and flung the final door open with a thunderous slam, almost prying the thick, spirit particle enforced steel off its hinges and earning another low grunt from her companion. 

They both spilled into the computer room at the same time, alert and raring. 

... And then they heard the shattering of glass.  
The sound seeming louder than it really was...  
Because it was just the very thing they'd been dreading to hear. 

Yoruichi's eyes widened as she whirled towards the table near the monitors, seeing that each vial had exploded, with the objects contained already connecting their Spirit Ribbons with a corresponding golden pathway.

It had penetrated the seals.  
_He_ was penetrating the seals. 

Her glare tightened, catching the hints of green coursing down those stems like poisonous chlorophyll. 

"Kisuke!" She shouted, sliding forward in a blur too quick to catch with ordinary eyes.  
With one sharp upward slice of her calves, a taut leg flew cleanly over the ribbons.  
And where they met, gaping cracks started.  
Sharp, broken shards of solidity falling away from the center of impact, steadily crumbling outwards until the only sound in the room was from the remnants of Inoue's evolved Shun-Shun Rikka shattering at its tips.

In an instinctive kind of teamwork only sparring partners with decades of experience together could initiate, the man knew exactly when to move in and what to do with that one command. 

Urahara whipped out his cane Zanpakutou, slipping it from its sheath with a sharp call.  
"Awaken!"  
"Shibari! Benihime." came the firmly spoken summon, faster than any incantation he dared to invoke.  
With how quickly things were progressing, it would have to do.  
The Zanpakutou came to life, its blade reforming into a proper sword with a majestic hilt, as it grafted through the air in one fell swoop.  
The steel surface glowed a startling red, its tip blazing with ethereal vines of sealing Reiatsu that instantly shot outwards at its master's command.  
The energy streaked forward into the air with whistling accuracy, cords of rope-like substance slapping and tangling together to form a large restraining net with countless knots and miniscule gaps. 

It draped with a firm fastening of threads buckling into the table with every frayed corner locking over the glowing orbs. Pressing down on floating wisps of green with its restraining abilities, causing them to explode over the brunt of Benihime's more powerful oppressive pressure.  
The particles dissipated, fragments of Ulquiorra's Reiatsu catching at the light in an almost picturesque display of glittering spectral colors.  
And then the orbs settled as the Zanpakuto's sealing technique took full effect. 

Urahara appeared beside Yoruichi just as she swiveled her head to him, ponytail whipping over her sun-kissed neck.  
"Are we too late?" She asked with suspended breath, standing completely still over the orbs - Her wide eyes returning quickly to it, stark irises pulsing with keen observance.  
There was a pause as the man looked down.  
"... I don't know." He finally said in an equally exhaled statement. 

Before they had a chance to regroup their next thoughts, the orbs began to glow a menacing purple.  
Urahara's eyes widened and he leaned back.  
"Keep alert." He cautioned. 

_Obviously._  
Yoruichi almost came back with the response, but stopped when the man whipped his sword out sideways as if he were flicking the previous attack from the blade and starting the next one clean and ready.  
It was a stance she knew bore the man's full intentions and will.  
He had decided to get serious.

The next seconds felt longer than some of the whirlwind years they'd lived through.  
They stood frozen with only their steady breaths punctuating the silence. 

And then there was a faint crumpling sound. 

Dread went through the shopkeeper as he felt the familiar corrosion of Spirit bindings through his spiritual connection with his Zanpakuto. 

"Oh no." He flatly stated with an almost comical deflating of shoulders. 

Things got increasingly worse as Benihime's red net began to dissolve, the Reishi falling apart at its seams as the darkness underneath seemed to easily melt it like acid eating away at steel. 

"Impossible..." Yoruichi stated with stubborn reluctance.  
"It's such a small amount... How..."  
Her tone continued to reflect slow denial at the unusual display of power from the small bits of the Arrancar's Reiatsu. 

"Inoue-san's Reiatsu must have helped in..." Urahara's voice dwindled off into silence because his thoughts sharpened in a singular concentrated effort, watching the developments under his nose. 

"Even then-" The woman's voice cut in, almost incredulous. 

The dark swirls inside the orbs were beginning to move, ghosting along the edges like the green curls from Inoue Orihime's golden canopy.  
And then their ridged surfaces pulsed, like a small ironic heartbeat of death coming to life, emitting a foul, black radial thumping that blurred the spheres for single points of time.  
And before Urahara could raise Benihime to call another attack forward, the orbs had exploded, the dark mass within it cascading out, lashing with spindly edges like a newly-birthed creature covered in thick tar.  
It molded into itself, and spread itself out in a flattened plane over one tip, while the rest of the onyx material rushed towards the other end, forming a cylindrical elongation that was all-too-familiar. 

And suddenly, Urahara Kisuke knew, seeing the emerging shape - why it was so powerful.  


The solidifying mass that was now gradually becoming more apparently obvious in its form caused a spiral of dread to roil around the shopkeeper's stomach, and his breaths almost tripped if not for the many things he'd seen in his hundred lifetimes that came close to the shock currently taking a hold of him in that moment.  
When the tar began to curl into spiral extensions that formed symmetrical opposing sides shaped like an awakening eye, Urahara stepped back, lowering his face with fresh solemnity as his hold on Benihime's handle tightened.  
With a glower, he released his gate of energy, directing the power straight into his arm.  
The sword re-ignited with a burst of flaming Reiatsu that roared like howls of fire, sweeping up the corners of the room with its strength unsuppressed and awakened.

The jarring energy caused some of the monitor's edges to chink and crunch, their thick metal frames caving with scratchy squelches under the immense pressure of the man's building power.  
The vents began to creak and the panels on the floor under Urahara distorted, starting a domino of sinking craters around his immediate proximity. The unsuppressed Reiatsu finally reached the chairs and they crumpled in on themselves in twisting snaps as the table between them caved with an inward suction of force exploding right through its middle, forcing out an ejection of jagged distortions. 

One monitor screen a few feet from him finally shattered and Urahara mentally noted, without looking, to request for a replacement. 

Limiting barriers on the human world be damned.  
This was a crisis. 

\- And then the morphing before them stopped, as if in a great pause of sentient indecision.  
Only they realized it was not that at all.  
Urahara and Yoruichi watched with widening eyes as the tar broke away from the solidity in a quiet, hissing evaporation of retreat, leaving something unsurprising to both parties looking down on it. 

One end of the object caught at the light, and it reflected off the rest of the deadly, sharp edge as a sliver of brightness caught the tips of its curling, bulked base. The gleam only disappeared as it seeped into the carefully interwoven threads of green and lilac forming that intricately-crafted diamond pattern composing that thick handle. 

Urahara's eyes narrowed.  
Yoruichi was just as speechless. 

They stared down at the glinting steel, struggling with conflicting admiration...  
Because for all its encased monstrosity, it was a fine weapon. 

A beautiful Zanpakuto.

\---  
Kurosaki Ichigo was the one who sat closest to Inoue Orihime's unconscious form. 

Ishida and Chad sat with their own knees folded under them over the tatami mat, flanking each of his sides at a respectable distance in the formation they had grown most accustomed to. 

Kurosaki Ichigo's sagging form was the most crippled of the bunch.

And both of his friends knew better than to speak a word in that heavy silence.  
In fears his very being, as fragile now as a thin sheet of ice, would easily crack and rupture into a tumultuous drifting of shattered emotion. And they wouldn't know which piece of him to reign in first and how to gather him together at all. 

This was a taxing, altering event that had swallowed all of them up, spitting out only the insecurities and the futilities and the disappointments of not being able to do anything for their friend at all. 

But in their minds, despite each of their internal sufferings, they all knew who was already pulling at the weight of self-imposed responsibility.  
\- An absurdly heavy load of it that was entirely and unreasonably allocated for him by his own grandiose, idealistic conscience.  
Someone who had saved more than one world and all but won accolades in the form of a cumbersome, cheap, wooden Spirit Badge and a loyal following of Captain's swords he would most likely never see again. 

Kurosaki Ichigo was no longer feeling like that hero.  
He had flown so high, and plummeted so hard in his intentions to play the role to the end. 

He knew.  
But he hadn't really known at all.  
Hitting the ground was excruciating. 

The decline was like the final gasps of a fish out of water, straining to take in the remnants of a dwindling puddle with its glistening body and magnificent fins thrashing in frantic show amidst the shattered pieces of a previously perfect glass bowl.  
He shone in the light, and he shone perfectly in form, and yet his life was slipping away no matter how much he struggled in his pathetic, floundering jolts.  
The air he'd come to know and breathed was thinning.  
And the air around him now was strangling him. 

His eyes steadily watched Inoue as her small jerks finally diminished into heavy, faltering breaths and her tears began to dry.  
She slowly calmed, her grieving features smoothing out into the natural, beautiful contours of her youthful, cherubic face.  
And with the growing development, he found a strengthening solace, enough that his heart began to heal in the hastened way it always did, enveloped in the warm bonds of unbreakable friendship. 

"Inoue." He whispered to no one but himself, clutching at the fabric over his chest. 

And he hadn't even noticed when the bulking, mustached man beside him nudged at his arm with a steaming cup of tea, brewed from the dispenser and leaves placed in containers at the corner of the room. 

The Time-Space barrier had been removed early on when Tessai had realized that it was putting minute strain on one of Inoue's fairies.  
The gradual alterations of spatial and temporal components were never, never good for the soul.  
It withered when deprived of passing moments.  
And it stagnated when its resonance was stifled by the negation of ever-expanding space, like an invisible hand forcing a heartbeat to stop.  
It was a Forbidden Incantation for a reason.  
He had removed the second barrier soon after, when he noticed the crumbling flakes collapsing upwards from the floorboards. The deterioration stopped as it met with the incantation's wall, preventing any further damage to the unconscious girl. And as if her soul had been waiting for just that, it relented - Ceasing to channel any more of its power. The whole canopy flickered with a slowly extinguishing light before it finally faded into the air, taking the Spirit Fabric bindings along with it.  
Tessai watched the girl, briefly wondering how Soul Society would react to this new violation...  
\- If his Gigai would finally be exposed and his soul form ejected forcibly.  
Dragged off in restricting binds and tossed into the dungeons of exile below Seireitei's grounds to waste away for the remainder of his centuries. 

It was no encouraging moment to look forward to, and the man blatantly dismissed the troubling thought. 

They all had the same question in their minds. 

_What exactly had just happened?_

A burst of that rare, but unforgettable Reiatsu had come from below.  
The force enough that Ichigo had picked up on it.  
And then Inoue's attack had slowly begun to fade, leaving her free to be touched - which the strawberry-blonde immediately did - until the only ex-Captain left in the room sprung into action, preventing any more than the few gentle shakes he'd managed. 

"She needs to wake up." Ichigo whispered.  
"Please wake up."  
"Inoue, please..."  
It was a chant, soft and fervent and constant.  
And they all fell in a suspended vigil in the lengthy silence...

Until they began to stir to consciousness... 

Each one's ears picking up the steady clacks of geta coming from the hallway...  
From the man wielding the power responsible for the release. 

He appeared at the doorway without his hat.  
That unsettled frown carving a delicate uncertainty over his handsomely rugged features.  
He looked at the occupants in the room from behind the parting of his sandy, wavy locks, for a moment not knowing exactly what to say. 

"I'm hoping Inoue-san will explain." He simply decided, not bothering to make light of anything at all.  
In his arms, he held a case - which he berated himself for - risking the idea of bringing it so close to the girl at all.  
But the man knew that it hardly mattered anymore.  
They had failed to stop the snowball of events.  
He had failed.  
And it had come to this.  
Whether for now or for later, it was to be accepted like a bad hand of cards dealt at the gambler's table. 

Because all signs of _him_ had left her - at least that much was clear.

And whatever life from her _he_ had incubated and thrived on, he'd surprisingly let go of.  
It was both a strangely peculiar and gratingly fortunate thing. 

Everything that was him that had evacuated from her body and soul,  
Everything that was him, that Urahara had attempted to cleanly separate from her with his knowledge and his up-to-date spiritual equipment and gadgets, 

Everything that was him.  
It was now compressed in the single form of the ominous weapon that fell across the inspection of an ever-widening group of disbelieving eyes. 

It was locked behind another four layers of high-incantation and suspended in a spiritual containment case but still, carefully watched over with a tight grip of firm fingers and a suppressed sealing energy generated from the exhibitor himself.

The orange-haired boy stood first, very abruptly.  
His golden eyes sharp and never leaving the one thing he could feel just as vividly as the rest of them.  
His breaths staggered uncontrollably as the past reared with dizzying clarity in his mind and he felt his bones weakening with the vivid reminder that his own shaking hands had countered those lethally dealt blows.

Before being flung bodily into crumbling pillars and before those deadly luminous javelin spears, there was this - flashing with a glistening eerie stillness as if in dreadful greeting. 

It waited silently,  
Patiently,  
To be acknowledged by the humans its wielder merely dismissed as Trash. 

But only the one who ever stood out,  
Who never really did what its wielder expected,  
Spoke in the silence. 

"Murcielago..." came his tripping shudder of a breath. 

The rest of them noted that unstoppable quake in the fallen hero's voice.  
And just like that the room grew colder, far colder than the coming winter...  
\- Unperturbed by the steam rising from their forgotten cups of tea. 

\---


	13. Espada Quarters: Primera Espada's Lair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> This is LONG. For me anyway!
> 
> In writing Starrk, I think I channeled too much Sleeping Beauty.  
> Aizen was, as usual, very difficult to write.  
> King Baraggan was a lot of fun!  
> With Gin, I had to stop myself from putting too many apostrophes after his incomplete verbs. But I just personally imagine his Kansai accent to be directly translated as something like that.  
> I'm so sorry if it came off weird!!!  
> Ulquiorra is always fun to write, and also impossibly hard because of how incredibly callous he is.  
> And with Inoue... Well, we know that girl comes packaged with a lot of tears.
> 
> I gotta toughen her up a little bit! I'm sorry she's a weepy baby mess.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Above all the world stretched an endless expanse of black sky revealing a clear, cloudless night.  
A common sight to the creatures of Hueco Mundo, if not for the human idea that it was only ever seen once in a few months.  
It contrasted sharply with the startling whiteness that coasted across the grounds, cleanly separating the heavens from the earth in an opposing monotone ebb and swell. 

One stone structure stood out in its fallen grandeur, meant to bridge the realms of black and white with its ancient pillars reaching up from the sandy grounds and into the sky.  
It broke that endless horizon, and drew them all to approach. 

Before the loom of a Giant's crumbling castle stairway, so high one needed a ladder to climb each step; four tall figures came to stand.  
The harsh winds nipping about their ankles, managing tantalizing whiplashes across the fabric meant for only such harsh environments.  


"Ya ready, Number One?" Came the sly, light jest of the Captain with silver hair that shone almost lilac in the moon's light.  
His mouth stretched out in a strangely charismatic grin.

There was no response from the bulky, hooded figure that stood slightly taller beside him. 

"I sense no other threatening presence." Came the low, firm drone from the other side of the flank.  
The expanse of a dark prominent nose peeked out from the hood of a robe, his unseeing eyes behind his orange visor closed and concentrated. 

"Simply because His Majesty knows better than to trouble those who pay him important visits." Came the smooth, genial tone of the man in the middle.  
It gave pause to everyone else with its natural, commanding air and unmistakable authority. 

Aizen directed his warm brown eyes to the entryway, seeing the ruins that lay within its crumbling walls all too perfectly, because this palace before them had no ceilings to speak of. The lights spilled into it illuminating everything. 

He turned his handsome gaze back to the man between Ichimaru Gin and Tosen Kaname - Who, still, in the moment stood not saying anything at all. 

"Come," He started with a smile, looking him over with something akin to fondness.  
"Let us greet your... King." That tone lowered slightly.  
And if one were sensitive to their subconscious, they would possibly know the suggestions of mocking hidden deep within it. Gin's amiable mouth stretched higher, seemingly aware.  
And within moments they had all disappeared with impressively inhuman leaps up the steps. 

When the moon shone so completely over this decrepit, forlorn palace without a ceiling, it made everything all the more menacing.  
It touched across corners and spared nothing of the filth and ugliness that lay within.  
It brought every single horror to its light with startling clarity.  
Figures that would best be hidden in shadow to spare one's fraught, emerge as distinctly as any child's vivid nightmare with all their twisted monstrous features, and violently livid intentions.  
And there were many that stood, in all shapes and sizes with their luminous inhuman eyes and those disfigured bone badges that spoke of what they were.  
Only none of these said figures dared to oppose them, none of them spoke as the four figures walked with even steps down its halls towards the grand opening of a throne room that greeted them. 

The King of Hueco Mundo was stubborn to send them a glance, though their shadowed forms were beginning to appear at the jagged doorway. 

He sat there, slumped with a semblance of boredom, drumming his fingers over one crumbling armrest.  
He continued to stare at the green-colored Adjuchas at his feet as it let out a throaty, gurgling growl consuming the bloody remains of a finished sparring session.  
The Hollow sharply jerked up as it felt the ominous presence that penetrated its immediate vicinity.  
And at the emergence of the first figure, it crouched low before finally retreating backwards with a glower.  
As the others stepped in with equally pressing powers stifling the air, it finally evacuated, slinking away through a discreet exit behind a hole of rubble. 

"Certainly, there are faster ways to determine those worthy to fight in an army?"  
The King finally looked up at that fluid casualty.  
The empty sockets of his skull were devoid of eyes, yet seemingly still capable of projecting a sharp glare at this insolent man, this contemptible arch-enemy of his Kind, who was questioning _his_ ways.  


"...Shinigami." He greeted with a low rumbling slur, throwing all the seething disgust into his tone.  
"You come bearing a fourth..." His teeth gnashed with a firm clack.  
"Is this one a gift?"

Aizen watched the King lean in with a taunting grin. 

"That is not so far from the truth." The man gave a lift of a humorless smile.  
"He is my first creation. A different kind of Espada, unique. Here to win your favor."  
At the seemingly respectful approach and the mild interest it piqued - the King straightened and spared the hunched form a second glance.  
And then without any warning, he'd dully taken the remains of a spear discarded earlier in the battle and lifted the robe off the fourth man's head.  
He sat back with a glower as the form raised his sullen eyes, the utmost disinterest lacing his handsome blue gaze. 

"This?"

A dry, mocking laughter filled the spaces and floated up into the skies above the ruins as the King slammed a bony hand against the throne, tossing his head up with a holler. 

"You amuse me to no end, Shinigami!" The King of Hueco Mundo boisterously proclaimed.  
"He appears to be nothing but an incompetent, spineless, sod! The very look of him reeks of laziness and apathy."  
Something began to wiggle under the robes of the man being referred to, and it yanked those covers aside at the insult, bearing a snarky child's cry as it clung effortless wrapped with arms and legs to the man's solid torso.  
The King disregarded the smaller lime-haired pygmy sending him daggers, and pushed a clacking skeletal hand to his jaw.  
"Explain these disgraceful cretins standing at the foot of my throne." Came the dangerous rumble. 

"These traits you speak of bear no consequence on their capabilities. My beloved recruit will not hinder us, I can assure you." Aizen continued lightly, waving a hand to disregard the earlier insults. 

The King of Hueco Mundo was not pleased.  
His anger began to rise at this foolish attempt to make a mockery out of him.  
Though the man before him seemed to exude a presence that suppressed something deep and malevolent within, he seemed not intent to draw it out.  
And that urchin clinging to him held all the ferocity, yet no semblance of power or control, nothing but a bark that bore no bite.  
They, he, was a green boy - despondent - and because of that, useless.  
It was known that power came with the experience of age. Wisdom in battle, one's survival... birthed power.  
The construction of a grand palace the likes of one he had never seen before, power unimagined forged into a perfect army that would flood Hueco Mundo with tyranny, surging forward into the worlds beyond it to harness every creature in existence and bring them down to their knees.  
The very resources of all life and death at their disposal for all eternity.... that was what this Aizen promised.  
He saw none of it.

"I conclude otherwise, Shinigami. You are young and naive beyond a fault."  
The King mumbled, not even bothering to spare any more of his idle time proving the man wrong.  
And as he looked away to focus on one dreary wall, the King missed entirely, the way the Captain narrowed his eyes with the hints of a dark intolerance at his brief insults. 

"It appears that we have come to an impasse... as we at this point, do not share the same views on the matter. It is never wise to build for such momentous goals when the very pillars do not align."

The King slid his face back, just barely catching the way the Shinigami was giving his crumbling castle an unimpressed look.  
And he might have appeared slightly peeved then, if one could see beyond the empty sockets of his human-shaped skull. 

"As allies, it speaks of a brief relationship. However, I intend for ours... to last." The brown-eyed Shinigami spoke with a subtle tenor.  
"At the opportunity of salvaging whatever significant rubble we can of this 'kingdom' you are so very proud of, might I insist you test the recruit."

The King gave a sudden emboldened laugh at this next interesting suggestion, temporarily reprieved of more boredom.  
"At your best, your youthful naivety does amuse me, Aizen Sosuke. Consider it a privilege from the King of Hueco Mundo, that he will entertain you as a reward."

Those empty eyes, black as the depths of a corrupted soul looked at the man. 

"The subjects of my court bear nothing but burdens and complaints. It is timely, that I have grown tired of their incessant yammering. You will have today's collection of these dullards."  
His prominent expanse of teeth came together with a clack resembling a menacing grin. "If you have such faith in this 'recruit' you deem worthy, indulge me by doing away with them. All of them."  
"As you wish." Aizen shortly answered.

"Starrk."  


Everyone save for the subtly smiling Captain still eyeing the King, turned to the miserable figure whose eyelids had begun to close in venture of an actual nap while still standing.  
His eyes lifted at the call of his name, only ever slightly, and the handsomely-disheveled man looked sideways at his creator.  
"Mm?" He gave a soft grunt.  
"If you would kindly follow the King to his subjects." Aizen turned to him and gave a brief lift of his mouth.  
The Primera Espada gave another slow blink.  
"Mm-" He finally managed to drag out the answer.  
"Is this bumbling lout even capable of speech?" The King impatiently cut in.  
"Yes, he is! Starrk is just sleepy. What of it?!" The girl from behind that robe stuck her face out, one eye glimmering with deadly defiance as she stared, unafraid up at her King. As if the mention of sleep appealed to him, Starrk gave a generous yawn, eyes moistening with the gesture. 

"I assure you we have had our fair share of meaningful dialogue, if we may proceed." Aizen's deadly voice sliced the air.  
And the two Shinigami flanking his sides stepped forward as if by unspoken command with their hands barely lingering, like a silent threat, over the hilts of their swords.  
The King sensed the sudden jump of malevolence in the air. And it erupted from all three of those damned Shinigami, pressing with impressive weight enough to bear down like iron clutches over his boney makings.  


He gave another laugh, amused at their power.  
"Come." 

\--

King Baraggan, along with two towering guards leading the four forms traversed a small stretch of desert path carved in rough granite with slim, cracked pillars, towards a circular symposium arena that boomed with the thundering clamors and hollers of a seemingly mad, quarrelling crowd. 

The two guards stopped at the large, crumbling entryway and with a thundering stab of their staffs to the caked ground, the howls and grunts of the occupants within began to lower into a dull thrum and they raised their heads in attention. 

The King of Hueco Mundo entered, eliciting a hush that befell the crowd, gliding up with his tattered black robe towards the very corner.  
He fell lightly into the seat of another makeshift throne. 

"Welcome to my judicial courtroom." He called, grandly sweeping his robe towards the unimpressive crumbling rows of stone benches, that stood in long ascending rings, growing smaller towards a flat surface of dirt in the center like a Gladiator's sparring ground.  
The Captain he addressed gave the room a sweeping assessment with his warm, brown eyes. Noting the gathered crowd with all their eyes on them. 

"... Quaint." He lightly stated, and he gave his loyal men a look.  
Gin slipped a hand into his other arm sleeve and his mouth curled higher, while Tousen stood like a firmly resolved rock in his dignity, unseeing eyes shifting as his other senses stretched, assessing the mass he'd deduced to a mere 50 occupants. 

Small murmurs began to rise as some gruff barks cut into the silence.  
"Shinigami!" One finally hissed. And it was quickly joined by another sharp declaration until the rising crescendo of vehement taunts began to swell into the space of the room. Hauling insults and objections and angry cries of rage, all aimed towards them. 

The King sat back, with a large, stretching eternal grin almost enjoying the moment, even as the four unfamiliar faces gave no inklings to being fazed by the animosity at all. After a moment, he decided to raise a bony hand.  
"Silence..." He commanded with a linger.  
The crowd fell still at the authority of their King.  
"We have in the room, Shinigami who bear us no ill-intention or hostility. I command you, as your King, to participate in this temporary truce I have issued with them. We shall now proceed with the events of today's judicial reports. The 10 commander Adjuchas of each portion of Hueco Mundo, my faithful and strongest subjects, step forward to be acknowledged."

From the front row, 10 exceptionally large or long Hollows rose.  
The looks on each of their variously twisted faces reflecting malice, as waves of rolling power came off them. 

The King of Hueco Mundo raised one arm with an idle dismissiveness.  
"There is One... who stands with the Shinigami, and you have all most likely noticed. He is not from their world. But from ours. A Hollow. In today's endeavours, I propose that we entertain ourselves with a... brief... battle. The Shinigami's _dog_ to spar valiantly with our ten utmost best. Before listening to any pressing concerns abou-"

Suddenly, the man being referred to had begun to slide sideways.  
The 10 Adjuchas heads followed that falling movement with a comical sideways tilt of their own. 

Starrk's body teetered, his cheek landing against Gin's shoulder, and the Captain slowly looked down with a curious frown to realize that the man had fallen asleep and was using him as a pillow.  
"Number One..." The silver-haired man quietly called, raising his shoulder very gently. Starrk's mouth opened and he gave an agonized sigh at the voice disturbing his soothing subconscious, and then he'd grown still, erupting into a low snore. 

The 10 Adjuchas laughed, and the rest of the courtroom broke into a brim of the same kind, coupled with shrieks and rumbles. 

"Starrk..."  
A hand touched, gentle and light, over his shoulder.  
Only hidden within it, there was a shock of crippling power. It pushed testily at the man's neck and spine, and Starrk felt his Hierro crack very slightly, bringing him back to awareness with a widening stare directed at those arresting, chocolate eyes.  
The Primera lifted to attention then, fully awake, and Lilynette gripped at his stomach protectively, eye watching the brown-haired Captain with a waver of anxiousness.  
The man's patience was starting to thin, and it reflected in the rims of light that began to darken with suppressed vindictiveness.  
"The sooner this is over. The sooner you may get your uninterrupted slumber. Now..."  
The Primera eyed him, falling back into a semblance of despondence as the Captain gave a casual lift of mouth.  
"Kindly persuade the King of Hueco Mundo of your use."  
"Ah, the slumbering beast has awakened! Please come forth." The King jested without humor.  
The rest of the room gave another round of laughs as the Primera broke away from the rest of the Shinigami and began to make his way forward onto the center of the room.  
A hand with a tattooed '1' over its surface reached up, pulling at the fastened corner of his robe, before releasing it and letting it part open to expose Lilynette's form. 

The King's sockets almost narrowed with a palpable expression of disgust. 

"If you choose not to be rid of your suckling babe, I suggest you hasten your oafish gait immediately before-"  
And then there was a sudden release of energy that slammed into the King, cutting the rest of his words off, and leaving him slightly shocked. 

It swept like a ripple of darkness into the whole arena, squeezing out small, terrified sounds from the spectators who had locked with paralysis into their respective spaces, their bodies now refusing to move while the fear continued to rise and build inside them with a panic-inducing pressure.  
The Primera fell to a careless stop in the center, not bothering to spare any of the occupants a look. Because he had seen the scene countless times, and it never made him feel any better.  
A swelling wave of malicious, heavy carnage lashed out of him, whipping his robe clean off his shoulders.  
The girl clinging to his stomach, who no longer found solace in the wrapped warmth, now slowly slid off his waist.  
Without detaching herself from him completely, her hand rose, finding the confines of his own palm, and she intertwined their fingers with a squeeze.  
Starrk tightened the grip in response as they found comfort in each other's touch, watching the scene unfold in front of their dimming eyes.  
At the contact, everything only seemed to build.  
The sands lifted in circular sweeps as the wind began to twirl in a small tornado with the Primera centered within the eye of the storm. It began to flail out of control, spewing sand into the pillars and corners of the symposium and into the occupant's faces and bodies. And with the untamed motions, erupted the heavily morose howling of wolves, growing louder and more fearsome and more lonesome than any song had ever been.  
It was like a wave of death sweeping out into the audience as one by one the building pressures in them became intolerable. They slumped, dropped sideways or fell back with mouths parted, as their consciousness exploded from its power and left them robbed of any sort of recovery. 

The 10 Adjuchas began to cower, too stunned at the hidden power that the Hollow before them had managed to compress into a jar hidden in himself, and not a single one attempted to step closer as that lid opened and released the very brunt of it.  
They fell to their knees in painful cries and wheezes and the immediate shadows of death ghosted over their forms. It swept like a gossamer cloth over whatever constituted their eyes, until they glazed with deprivation and grew eerily still, attentive to the burial of their bodies in the falling sands around them. 

The wolves howled around them, and even Gin shivered slightly at that.  
Though his face continued to assess the situation with the barest frown, his composure held as he raised his crinkled eyes up at the King of Hueco Mundo.  
"Yer Highness, sir? Are ya pleased?"

The King didn't reply.  
He remained still as a statue at the suddenness of the turnout.  
And the strength of that Hollow he had very sorely underestimated. 

Because of that, his audience of 50 Hollows and the representatives of the strongest men in his courtroom lay...  
All dead in the span of a single sweeping moment of time's hand. 

Aizen watched the King from the corner of his eyes, and his mouth curled with a smile.

"Now, if you are ready to listen... King... Shall we go about building our army?"  
...

That skull face turned wordlessly towards him, and the Captain knew he had him.

\---

.  
.  
.

"Primera." A voice called with a solid murmur. 

The man opened one eye at the title, rousing from his thoughts, retreating far too long into the past.  
He pushed himself up from the plush cushions strewn about his Lair and the girl on his chest stirred with a curling yawn.  
"Nnnnn." The lime-haired companion squeezed out a throaty sound and she pushed her arms up to stretch, one fist flinging right into the older man's jaw with an uppercut as she fully awakened.  
"Augn-!" Starrk grunted, feeling her fingers smash without mercy into the cartilage of his nose.  
" Lilynnn-m." He managed, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain.  
The broad-shouldered man braced backwards on one arm, pinching his fingers to the tender bridge with irritation as he lifted his face to give the one standing in his doorway a sullen, pained look. 

"... Cuatro." Starrk mumbled, barely squinting at the man patiently observing him.  
The sharp pain in his nose lanced, forcing his eyes to water. 

"What brings you here? Actually... How did you manage to get in here?"

And when the smaller man only closed his eyes and leaned against the doorway refusing to speak any further, the Primera slumped back down into the silken pillows, too tired to even think about it. 

He waved a lazy hand in the air for Ulquiorra, and the Cuatro obliged the permission, slipping onto the plush carpet without making the slightest noise.

"Your servant Adjuchas let me in. I am simply alone due to their fear of coming any closer to you than necessary. And it is only because there is an immediate matter I wish to inform you of. These are direct orders from Lord Aizen."

A groan erupted from the mountain of cushions as Lilynette began to jostle him.  
"Up-up-up-UP!"  
And then she bristled with a growl, eyeing Ulquiorra because the man had lowered with a pale, outstretched hand between them, bearing a sheet of paper. 

"Get away from my face, unless you're looking for another fight, Fourth."  
The limber man paid her no heed, his eyes not bothering to address her with a look.  
Starrk finally got up with a sigh and cast a weary glance at the paper before slowly taking it with a gloved hand.  
"What's it say." His tone was remotely dead, not bothering to comprehend what was written in orderly rows of Arrancar lettering before glancing up dismally into those sharp, green eyes. 

"You are to bring anyone you wish with you, though I say this only because it is as per instruction. I am aware you and Lilynette are more than capable to complete this mission alone, and prefer it as such." The Cuatro pulled away, slipping his now empty hands back into his pockets before fixing the man with a cryptic stare. 

The Primera looked back wordlessly, waiting for him to continue.  
And the Cuatro, seeing as the man would not be reading the paper at all, closed his eyes and narrated the details of the mission. 

"Vagabonds have set up camp near the south gate, closest to your tower. If you would like surveillance information, I will provide it for you once you construct your report."  
"Can't you ask the Privaron from Tres Cifras to do it?" Starrk grumbled mournfully. 

Ulquiorra's eyes opened to give him a stare.  
"Since this falls within your jurisdiction just as much as theirs, and there are about a hundred or more nomadic Hollows to be exterminated, it is more efficient that you simply get yourself to the door and stand there to ensure they are all dead."

"Ulquiorra, why do we even have to kill them...?" Starrk droned, reaching up to scratch at the gap between his Hollow bone necklace and an itching portion of the skin nestled under it. 

The Cuatro stared at him, as if allowing the Primera a moment to ponder if it were such a wise move to question their Lord's instructions.  
And then those eyes lowered slowly to Lilynette with their vacant marble stare.  
She simply stuck out a childish frown, prickling at the void she saw, and clutched closer to Starrk with sudden flaring irritation. 

"They have refused to cooperate in doing away with our captive's infiltrating friends while they were in the Forest of Menos." Ulquiorra continued.  
"They are a horde of retreating cowards, meaning to call 'sanctuary,' wanting to find refuge within Las Noches' tunnels. I can verify this, with reconnaissance reports in the desert, and I have already done away with the ones that have trespassed."

The Primera found his eyelids lowering at the unintended lull of Ulquiorra's velvet tone. The man sounded like an ironically-comforting lullaby, narrating a death sentence. 

"We have no intentions of harboring such Trash." The Cuatro finished, pulling up.

Lilynette stared Ulquiorra head to toe as the man straightened.  
That pink eye sharpened, spotting the few beady traces of blood, very subtly peppered along the hems of one Hakama pantleg. 

And that was all the evidence that the man had been disposing of intruders along cramped tunnels for one part of his afternoon stroll.  
She wondered if the man actually enjoyed killing in any way.  
She kind of did, if it was with Starrk and there was a fun fight that went along with it. 

"Heeeeey," Her lilac gaze suddenly lit up, "We can play a game!"  
She jumped excitedly over Starrk's stomach, earning an 'oonf!' before shooting up to a stand and reaching down to drag one of his legs forward.  
"This is going to be fun! We can play around with them a little, can't we Starrk??" She gave a sharp tug and he popped out from under his cavern of comforters.  
"There's so many of them, it'll be great!" She declared, a vehement shadow of thrill lighting her one pink eye up. 

"Do as you wish. So long as they are dead within two hours."  
Ulquiorra answered, stepping away quietly and turning to head back.  
And then, as a last attempt to get the Primera to rouse, he added with a sideways glance. "If I see any more have penetrated the passages after that allocated duration, I will be paying you another visit, after I have reported the matter."

"Yeah, yeah. We said we'd get them, Fourth! Now get out." The smaller girl finally exploded with a shrill snap. 

Lilynette and Starrk watched the man disappear from the doorway and out of their room before the older man gave another slump, eyeing the comforters under him with longing.  
The slender girl slapped his back with a holler, chastising him.  
And he recoiled with another strangled retort. 

Ulquiorra proceeded out of their Quarters, to the bows of the Primera's Adjuchas and made his way down the hall towards his next destination. 

\----

Long, slim fingers flowed over the keyboards below monitors in the dark room.  
The light from the screens reflected over the man's boyish features, casting a luminous blue glow over his pale locks. 

Ulquiorra waited patiently from directly behind until the man finally spoke. 

"So, did Number One agree to ya?"

Ichimaru Gin bent backwards, almost playfully, to stare at Ulquiorra from under the man's pale chin. His mouth stretched broadly, elusive eyebrows lifting in almost innocent inquiry, visible only because those silken bangs had parted so far back. 

"Of course." The Cuatro closed his eyes.  
"If such orders come from Lord Aizen, the Espada are apt to follow."

"Certainly is that way, isn't it. You're all such wise soldiers. But it's good to know he didn't give you trouble when ya went all the way into his room, Ulquiorra-san..." The silver-haired ex-Captain clicked his tongue, the statement filled with reprimanding mockery before turning in his chair and giving the Cuatro a full look. 

Those squinted eyes gave him a quick tilting sweep.  
"... Yer lookin' quite fresh for someone whose been running around from the wee hours of the morning until the afternoon moon."  
The crinkled beams with thick eyelashes pushed up. "Not a touch of death on ya..."  
That smile stretched even more into a grin, giving Ulquiorra the barest glimpse of a pink tongue from inside the parted seams.  
"... Now isn't that convenient for her." Came the softer slithering whisper.

Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed imperceptibly.  


The former Third Captain's face was unreadable despite their pleasant look.  
A mischievous intent bordering on dangerous, was hidden behind that elastic smile.  
"So Ulquiorra-san, how's our pre'y, little princess doing?"  
The Cuatro pretended not to hear the obviously stressed slip of tongue.  
"I have placed her back in her Quarters." He replied.  
"Apart from Grimmjow and Nnoitra, it seems the rest of the Espada no longer have intentions of causing her trouble... Perhaps, I have you to thank."  
And with that, Ulquiorra slipped his report across the desk, giving the Shinigami a brief look.  
"Nah, ya think?" Gin gave a slurring ponder with an uplifting air of genuine query.  
"I find they're pretty easy to talk to and convince, once you... win their heart."  
Ulquiorra's stare shifted back to him evenly, at that.  
The tell-tale reference became more apparent when those curling beams for eyes lifted to inspect the Cuatro Espada and he gave a full grin.  
The ex-Captain's slim forefinger gave a tap on a key as if on cue, and Inoue Orihime appeared.  
A mere blip of a glowing white dot, pulsing motionlessly amidst the mappings of a familiar room's blueprint.  


"I'm really curious to know what it's like playin' house with our pretty princess. It's just I'm thinking it might be fun and I'm even a lil' jealous, Ulquiorra-san..." His lackadaisical murmur flooded with gentle regret.  
"Ya spend a lot of time in there, in the same spot she's in right now, even..." He trailed off. "- On that couch." Gin gave a smirk.  
Ulquiorra's stare slipped sideways, and the ex-Captain continued to contemplate perhaps not seeing it. "Ya gotta wonder if she's sleeping..."  
"She's so still, isn't she, Ulquiorra-san? You'd think she really were..."  
That curling lilt lingered with expert pause, letting the words hang.  
"Ah, but ya can't ever tell..."  
And then that snake pulled away slightly and cast a tilt of a boyish smile at the expressionless Cuatro. "- can ya, Ulquiorra-san?"

The Cuatro concluded the former Third Captain simply thrived on poking fun and provoking people.  
He got enough of that absurdity from the Sexta Espada.  
And he certainly didn't share the same sentiments of amusement nor did he enjoy mindless exchanges when he had far more important things to do.  
The Shinigami could choose another, more engaging victim for his meaningless parries. 

"So long as the woman gets her sleep, whether it comes with pretending or not."  
He pulled away, "It does not matter to me."  
"Maybe you can pretend it matters, ya'know? So, the pretty princess appreciates yer concern. I don't think you'd have a problem with things like pretending... right?"  
Ulquiorra kept his eyes on the man, and there was no semblance of his stoic form caving against the obvious jabs.  
He was no longer under the influence of some mind-altering drug that caused him to behave sporadically, and the man was wasting his time.  


"I come here with the intentions of only giving my report, as you are second-in-command. Not to engage in small-talk, Ichimaru Gin. Do adjust the hallway and corridor structures of the Primera Tower with the Hogyoku's floorplan system in order for them to easily reach their destination. Expect Starrk and Lilynette at the South Gate, and the vagabonds dead in two hours. That concludes my briefing."  
One black sandaled foot lifted sideways and the Cuatro slowly turned to leave. 

"It ain't fun without a little small talk to keep us entertained, Ulquiorra-san. I think ya know that, don'tcha?"  
That snakey mouth pulled up and Ulquiorra barely spared it a glance before he exited into the light, walking towards the direction of the kitchen under the main hall.

\---

Ulquiorra was descending the steps when he felt it. 

It was a mere flutter in its beginnings,  
And then it became a constant nudge that brushed at him.  
And slowly it grew stronger,  
Into a steady thumping until his ears physically picked up on its consecutive beats. 

The woman, and that thing in her chest.

He stopped with a hover when the cadence increased, his eyebrows lowering slightly.  
It began building into his mind with increasing force,  
Until its beats were sending complete waves coursing through his body,  
Until he felt that thing in her chest had begun to manifest in him.  


He pried himself away from the intimacy.  
Exerting his own Reiatsu, not for the first time, around their spiritual link to minutely control it. 

Humans were such emotional creatures. 

When he was sure he had it isolated and away from his own consciousness, enough that he could hold it with his mind and scrutinize it, he continued making his way down the marble stairs. 

It was unlike the maddening traipse that accompanied her poisoning.  
Nor was it like the times he had stepped much too close to her for comfort, enough that he terrified her.  
And it was certainly not like the times she expressed sheer happiness or excitement. 

It was more beginning to resemble the kind of terrified thrumming she often had as she slept.  


The kind of thrum that she was not aware also kept him awake, forcing his eyes to patiently watch the ceiling of his room.  
His fingers digging into the sand with building frustration at his lack of control to simply choke the damn thing until it stopped beating and he could get his rest.  
And one day, when he'd asked her casually about it, she had looked at him hesitantly with long pause - her mouth parting slightly as if conflicted and unwilling to tell her story.  
He had been about to dismiss it by closing his eyes, but she had broken then, like a dam holding a rushing blast of reserves.  
With the tears streaming down her face, and her incessant, repeated apologies of how she was going to tell him because she needed to let it out somehow but that she knew he, most of all, was not the appropriate person to speak to. But that, perhaps it _was_ right that she told him, because she was causing him all this stress, and lack of sleep, and _'Ulquiorra I'm sorry,'_ and that she didn't mean to be such trouble to him but that she couldn't help it. And that perhaps it was best he knew after all because he deserved to know why it was happening to him.  
  
And then she brimmed with more tears and finally spilled that snivelling reason of a story.  
All her endless bubbling about her encounters in this room and that, and fallen rubble and Las Noches completely ruined, and her friend's lives.  
And how she was having such horrifying, 'bad dreams' about witnessing their many horrifying deaths. And how she hated it and herself in those horrifying moments because as much as she tried to use her power, she couldn't bring them back.  
She couldn't, even if she tried, and she had never felt so distraught.  


It was horrible, she said.  
And she was sorry that he had to hear it. And that she was stupid, so stupid for even telling him. But that she was grateful because he brought her comfort and protected her...  
And she was horrible. For doing this to him, and forcing him to listen.  
She didn't know what she was doing. What was she doing.  
And she cried, and cried, and cried.  
And he watched...  
And watched, and watched... 

Until he felt her.  
Every confused, frustratingly complicated part of her. 

Trembling in his mind and in his body.  
And the thrash of that thing in her chest, wild and bucking like an untamed, irrepressible creature.  
Until it choked at his throat, depriving him of the very air he was breathing,  
Until he was actually _feeling_ the cold,  
Until he was losing his grasp on his person and his eyes were growing dim,  
And he grew slightly shaken because everything was blurring,  
And there was no sense of controlling anything... 

And he was hurting.  
Immensely hurting.  


...  
Humans were such emotional creatures. 

Though he realized, that she was not quite so fragile to be able to tolerate such things.  
Perhaps, there was no need to rush.  
She would have to wait. 

He made his way down the hall and straight towards the double doors that were steadily growing familiar. 

And Ulquiorra let himself into the Kitchen. 

\---

"Bring it forward."

A small 4x4 foot box was placed in front of him.  
The contents he'd grown familiar with greeting his mute, green stare.  
"How many?" He asked, looking down at the bowed, trembling form beside him.  
"Twenty packs, Ulquiorra-sama. Ten 'red-bean,' Five 'soy,' and Five 'edamame' But... perhaps... this.. 'edamame' and 'soy' - are... the same...-" The pink-skinned Adjuchas fumbled with his notebook, almost tearing the paper with how vividly he shook.  
He stared at the list of human ingredients, Hollow horn wavering with short quakes and the herbivore teeth over one misshapen jaw, clacking.  
It was almost pitiful.  
There was no need for this pettiness.  


Ulquiorra closed his eyes, and his eyebrows lowered, almost putting a crease into his unmarred skin.  
"Separate them by their colors until I have acquired more information." He patiently said.  
The Adjuchas bowed away with a step and Ulquiorra lifted his eyes towards the three bowls in front of him, set carefully over the steel countertop by another fidgeting serf with a sickly-bruised complexion. 

The Cuatro pushed his hands into his pockets with a low breath and evaluated the first dish.  
It held a serving of rice, and natto beans, and all around underneath it a generous slathering of that disgusting red paste she enjoyed so much. 

But it was missing something.  
An ingredient the woman had mindlessly let slip previously while she ate, simply for the sake of saying it tasted better with it. 

"'Beef.'" He stated, sending the other servants in the room a sweeping glance. 

A few of them recoiled as if the Cuatro had thrown an insult or outright disapproval, and one surged off to pry the nearest freezer open to search its contents.  
"If there is no 'beef,' then you may replace it with 'pork.'" That voice relented. 

There was a shuffling of papers, as a few of the Adjuchas crouched together pointing at their individual notebooks, skimming the various ingredients and looking for this 'pork' and 'beef'. 

The Cuatro took the time to step closer, leaning down to inspect the second bowl that held a simple serving of soup with mushrooms and egg.  
"This dish is lacking." Ulquiorra pulled up to the horrified face of the Adjuchas closest to him. The female Hollow quickly lowered her face, hands scratching along the fabric of her torn apron. "We will fix it, Ulquiorra-sama, in however way we feel we should. But if you have any suggestions at all, please..."

"...'Smoked Mackerel.'..." He provided, voice growing even quieter. "... with plum jam."  
The lethal underlining irritation didn't go unnoticed and the woman jerked away, quickly slipping to a speeding walk towards the corner grill.  
"I sh-...shall prepare it right away, Ulquiorra-sama." She quickly stuttered.  
He closed his eyes with the onslaught of another waiting game.  
If they'd only known the reason for that frustration wasn't them.  
But it was not relevant, nor did he care what these serfs ever thought.  
That woman and her requests were taking up more of his time than he'd ever thought to believe possible. And in the previous two days that he had ensured she ate heartily and happily, he had made at least two trips to the Kitchen and stayed for over an hour simply making sure they were done right. 

The Cuatro was about to inspect the third dish when he heard another voice.  


"Ulquiorra-sama..." The gruff croak came from the back of the kitchen, and the lumbering servant to whom the voice belonged gave a few heavy steps forward, forcing the other smaller Adjuchas to step aside until he'd reached the front of the room.  
He wiped his hands into his apron, smearing it with whatever wet condiments and mash he'd been working with, aggravating the Cuatro's compulsion for cleanliness and order.  
Ulquiorra gave him a sufficiently tolerant look. 

"If it is not too forthcoming, I would like to bring up a question many of us have been meaning to ask since you have first graced us with your presence..."  
The Cuatro's pupils sharpened. "Speak."  
"King Baraggan-"  
"- You may refer to him as 'Baraggan-sama,' if you wish to respect his name. But he is no longer your King." Ulquiorra immediately corrected.  
There was a disconcerting silence that followed, as the sounds in the Kitchen seemed to halt for a dragging number of seconds.  
A large elephant moseying its way along the room until the stifling air lifted very slightly, enough for the bulking cook to continue with a slight tremor in his voice.  
"Baraggan-...sama... His fraccion has begun to ... question why they are making these repeated trips to the human world. As the requests they have received are no longer... the standard items from the list."  
"You, nor the populace of this Kitchen, need not concern yourselves with that. When it comes to the human's meals... your primary purpose... is simply to do as I say."  
Ulquiorra stated, slowly enough that the words could actually engrave themselves into the Hollow's skull.  
"We understand..." The cook gruffly answered. 

At that, the Cuatro stepped forward, eyes already singling out the ingredients of the third dish when the voice picked up again. 

"However, are these additions to the dish really necessary?"

... 

Ulquiorra didn't move.  
For a moment, he was completely still.  
The sounds of movement left the room entirely.  
And then there was a slight vibration in the air as a creeping malevolence snaked in to replace it, subtle and stealthy and only very small.  
But the Adjuchas distinguished its presence, their senses beginning to tingle on alert until whatever was left of their skin broke into a Hollow's version of goosepimples and their necks bristled with a coldness they'd never experienced in the duration of their Hollow lives. 

There was a second that all the occupants in the room were frozen with a fear so great that it simply robbed them of their next breaths.  
And then Ulquiorra had raised his head.  
Singling out the one Hollow that had dared to question him and fixing him with a very dead and pointed stare. 

Despite him being twice the size of the Espada standing in front of him, he recoiled almost immediately when those empty green eyes gave him a look so filled with crushing weight that he felt a vivid shudder quaking through his muscles and piercing like needle-pricks into his bones.  
He stumbled back against the Adjuchas behind him until they wrenched out of the way, not wanting to even be near him for fear of association alone.

And then the feeling had withdrawn, completely retreating into the darkest presence in the room that had called it.  
Leaving the place far colder than it was despite the blazing fires on the stoves. 

"The third dish is to remain exactly as you have presented." Ulquiorra continued, as if his inspection had never been interrupted.  
"In one hour, all three must be brought to the woman's quarters, with the ingredients I have specified... Or I will have to take it upon myself to question the very ones who have defied my instructions. Is this clear?"  
He cast the shaken cook a stony glance.

"Yes, Ul-Ul-Ul-quiorra-sama. Of course." He bowed almost thunking his oversized buffalo skull on the tray table in front of him. 

The Cuatro lingered for another moment, until he was certain his mark was made.  
"That will be all." He said.  
And then after a pause, "Thank you."  
He turned with a push at the door, departing with his usual, steady steps. 

\---

If that serf simply had a cleaner apron.  
Perhaps his reaction would not have been so uncontrolled...  


He walked the large hallway of the Cuatro Tower, segregating his thoughts and his list of duties.  
Analyzing the blips of his Pesquisa waves while noting that the idiotic fool of a Sexta was yet again rampaging near the Tres' Lair.  
Should Harribel finally pry her attention away from her three Fraccion, she would have noticed the steady decline in her servants in the previous week.  
He would have to tell her.  


Ulquiorra's steps slowed as he carefully constructed a new schedule for the next day:  
Rifling through the two Espada meetings and his desert missions to subjugate more Menos and observe the invading party.  
Checking on the results of the Primera's plague,  
Transferring footage to the orbs while reviewing them,  
Surrendering them to Lord Aizen for inspection.  
Reports. Reports. And damn reports. And Lord Aizen's tea session-slash-briefing of Kurosaki Ichigo's whereabouts to close the day.  


His footfalls had become so languid and controlled in concentration that the servant Adjuchas who met with his form from several meters away were forced to stop wherever they were and wait until he'd finally strode past them without even a tilt of avoidance to acknowledge they were within his space.  
But suddenly, seeing the end of the hall, his pace had picked up.  
The last two of his servants who waited gave their respective bows as he walked past.  
But his eyes paid them no mind as they fell fixated towards the one place he intended to enter.  


"I am about to come in." 

The Cuatro ran a palm over the door, and the lock fastened back, recognizing the signature of its wielder.  
He gave another ten seconds of reprieve, remembering how he had almost bumped into her half-naked form the previous time as she struggled to pull up her dress.  
The woman's whole face, down to her neck had flushed a most vivid red as she - faster than he had ever seen her move - whipped herself away from him with a reprimanding cry of how he simply needed to "Wait!" when she told him to do so.  
Ridiculous.  
It was no fault of his if he assumed she was doing something exceptionally foolish to aid an escape... or another ailing creature outside her window.  
He pushed at the marble grooves, and entered.  


And then he was standing in the dark of her small doorway.  
And his eyes adjusted to the dark easily, sweeping across the room in their usual inspection to note everything was rightfully where it was. 

Only it wasn't. 

Since his observance of her form at Ichimaru Gin's surveillance room, the couch had been moved closer to the barred window, and the girl sat in the only refuge of light, gazing up at the crooked Hueco Mundo moon.

Her legs were neatly tucked under her skirt, and the folds of her dress pants cascaded across the upholstery in a graceful spilling like a bird's parted tail.  
She'd donned her coat to ward off the coldness of the desert night. 

He watched the slivers of light travelling through those vivid, ginger strands, casting a halo over her head. Before he slipped his hands back into his pockets and soundlessly stepped in.  
It gave him slight pause, the fact that this woman had not bothered - as in every single one of the times he had entered - to give him a look.  
Brushing the observation aside, he simply stated what he came to say. 

"Your food will come within the hour." 

Inoue swiveled, all too suddenly with wide eyes.  
And he immediately realized that she had been crying again.  
A hand clutched to her chest as if disoriented until she realized who stood there, dark against the light in the hall. 

"Oh..." She managed, and her face lowered with a spilling of long, silken hair.  
"I'm sorry, Ulquiorra. I didn't hear you come in!" 

And then she gave a valiant smile.  


It was tight and wide, and forced with a tremble and a crinkling of her eyes in their feigned pleasantness. Her pink cheeks bulked with moist trails, her mouth unusually rosy and almost damp.  
"I'm sorry I moved the couch. I..."  
Her gaze lowered, eyelashes still clustered with a wet sheen.  
"I wanted to be near some light." 

And Ulquiorra knew that she had had a nightmare. 

"Was it so bad?" His voice broke the silence, and though he hadn't moved from the doorway, she heard the low timbre perfectly.  
"It was just a little too dark for me, but it's not that bad, actuall-"  
"Your dream." Ulquiorra clarified quietly.  
Inoue looked at him, surprised for a moment.  
Until she realized why he knew, and her hand moved to her chest as if in remembrance, pressing to the left side of her sternum. 

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. But to answer your question, yes, it was that bad. It's never not, Ulquiorra, when your friends are dying."  
And then her face had collapsed, the curtain of her hair hiding her from his scrutiny. 

They stood there for a moment in silence.  
And he stepped in, and closed the door quietly behind his feet.  
"Would you like me to stay?" He asked, tonelessly.  


"Ulquiorra, what's gonna happen when I'm no longer useful....?" Came her sudden question, disregarding his own.  


His mind pried apart all the possibilities of how to answer that question without breaking the girl and undoing all his hard work.  


"Your usefulness currently has no immediate end. I see no point in you contemplating this matter." His irises rose to study her.  
She looked at him, her gray eyes starkly bright in the darkness because of their freshly imposed grieving.  
And then her gaze had lowered.  
"After I've restored the Hogyoku..." She curled her fingers to her chest casting him another, more shadowed glance.  
He watched those slim fingers intertwine delicately over each gap before pressing into the shadow of her bosom.

"-Isn't that when I become useless?" The question was a squeezed whisper. 

Ulquiorra canted backwards and his eyes briefly fell over the rising puffs of her dress coat before he closed them. 

This day was not going to be brief.  
It was to be very long despite the fact it was already at its end.  
He most likely would not be having enough sleep. 

Inoue twisted her mouth at his sudden ghost of irritation.  
It was such a rare sight that some part of her strained to capture its humanity despite the situation.  
She bit her lip, stifling the urge to apologize.  
Ulquiorra had heard it so many times by now he practically pulled away the very moment she said _'I'm'._  
He was the one responsible for bringing her here, and she wanted an answer. Regardless of how painful it was going to be.  


"The very idea that you are given a place as one of Lord Aizen's allies even while your friends do not bear the intent of harming you seems to spare you from a sentence of death. That is your main concern, is it not?"  
She raised her head, hearing him take another step into the room.  
Her hesitant gaze met the stark glimmer of his opening eyes as he approached with ample, measured steps.  
"You are concerned if you will live..." His tone lifted on end, vaguely suggesting a question while it implied an accurate conclusion.  
"I'm concerned about a lot of things and a lot of lives." She provided slowly, straightening her back.  
"Those lives which inevitably depend on yours. If you are no longer alive, they come for nothing." He stated.  
His hands remained in his pockets, and his lean form took another silent step closer as she began to rise from the cushions.  


"And if it is truly as I say, you now wonder... if I will continue to protect you as I have done..." He looked at her with attentive eyes, fixed.  
"Or... should Lord Aizen instruct it... if I will simply kill you."

The last statement lanced into the space that separated them like a splintering crack on the stem of the glass chalice that held all the precarious symbiotic relationship between them.  
He stared at her from behind the subtle shadows falling along the narrow wall, the glassy surfaces of his eyes reflecting the crescent light of the sky from her single, barred window.  
There was nothing in their depths that even acknowledged the significant weight of such a deed. 

She shook.  
His unabashed honesty terrified her.  
But she struggled valiantly to accept it all, regardless.  


"It is obvious who I answer to." He formed the words with a bare parting of his lips. "And you know better than to ponder miracles."  
There was a brief pause as he gauged her reaction.  
Inoue slid back a step, suddenly feeling threatened.  
"As I have said before, you have no rights here in Hueco Mundo, there is only your allegiance. So I will ask you this question in return..."  
She teetered backwards again for the next step he'd taken forward.  
"Will you refuse to restore the Hogyoku when the time comes that it is asked of you?"  
His questioning stare pierced into hers, prying every second of her faltering expression apart with careful scrutiny.  


Inoue surveyed her immediate position opposite him.  
For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to dismiss the whole conversation all together.  


"I-" A tripping breath. 

Her gaze drifted unseeing before those thick lashes lowered with a stare to the rug on the floor and Ulquiorra knew, narrowing his eyes from that one gesture, what the girl's answer was. 

He would not allow all his careful, intricate notions to win her simply dissolve.  


"I cannot help you if you invite your own death." He stated callously. 

"Ulquiorra, I can't betray my friends." The girl wore a heavy, forlorn look. But there was no hint of indecision in that somber gaze as the Cuatro gauged her, and he spared a brief moment of his time to admire that fact, despite its irrationality.

She looked up at the window's bars, her eyes hardening with resolve.  
"I won't. Can't you see that?"

"You expect me to support your resistance?" Came his dragged question. 

Something in the gray depths of her eyes flinched. 

"You have no say in the matter. Only say yes." He was moving steadily closer with that quiet murmur.  
She widened her distance over the rug, vaguely bumping into the corner of her dresser with the swell of one hip.  
Her hands groped blindly at the desk, as she eyed him and she shifted sideways before finding temporary solace beside the corner of one wall.  
"Ulquiorra... Wait..." She whispered, trying to ease him to pause even for a moment so she could gather her falling composure.  


"I did not bring you here to think or ponder about human morals." He ignored her.

She pressed her mouth tightly, watching the quiet sway of those perfectly pleated pants as they slid closer, only to duck her head further down to his black, bound sandaled feet until they came to a light stop on the carpet in front of her.  
Her breaths began to hitch, feeling the precarious leaks of his Reiatsu invading her own.  
"Stop." She trembled, mentally brushing him away.

"You do not have the luxury of choice." His voice lowered, cutting through the space between them.  
"Please don't say it like that..." She calmly attempted, raising a palm out and looking him over.  
"Like what? I have stated it as simply as I possibly can: Do as you are told. I dislike repeating myself so constantly for you, woman." He coldly grated with a narrowing of his eyes.  
His steady pursuance ignited a rising infuriation in her.  
He was so dismissive and cold.  
"You know how much it bothers me. How can you expect me to just follow you!"  
She finally jerked her face up, frustrated.  
And then his white coat had pushed into the space directly in front of her.  
Inoue bit down on her cheek, backing up against the nearest wall with simmering defiance.  


His wide, stony eyes looked down on her. 

"I was under the assumption that following orders was established, before you even arrived." His tone was languid, only hinting at a lilt of deadly menace.

"That's not fair at all. I couldn't say no!" She cried out fervently, the fear in her eyes battling with rising anger as she remembered his spiel in the passageway.  
How he'd threatened her with Garganta screens showing each of her friends in their separate life-endangering encounters.  
How he'd forcibly bound her to the rope that held the guillotine blade suspended over their heads and dared her to free herself from it.

"I might have agreed and I'm accountable for that. But even then... Even if I looked like a traitor to them, my friends came for me, willing to risk their lives! Because they believe so much in me. And even if you've mocked them for it many times, I _have_ a heart. And I believe in them. And I can't... I can't betray them, especially after this!"  
There was no moved reaction from him as he looked at her with those empty depths.  
There was nothing noble in those words he acknowledged.  


"You may force me to be of use to you. But my trust lies with them and their capabilities. I hold their trust too, and I refuse to let them down."  
At that, the Cuatro's mouth gave a slight tug, almost imperceptibly pulling lower.  
But Inoue had grown so used to observing such minute changes, that it was just about as grand an expression as any for the man.  
Something she said had struck a nerve. 

There was a pregnant pause where she broke away from that cold scrutiny and wrapped her arms around herself, suppressing the urge to cry.  
She felt cornered, and it went without saying that she was terrified for her own fate despite the overwhelming worry that engulfed it, thinking about her friends.  
Now that he knew she wasn't going to help them, that she was stalling, he could leave the room at any moment to report her, and she would be no sooner dead for it.  
All he had to do was tell Lord Aizen. 

_... Would he?_

The question came before she could stop herself from thinking it.  
He was still here standing in front of her, after all.  
A small hope flickered from her depths, and she found herself wanting to latch on to it for the comfort it alluded, however miniscule that flicker was.  
She had always been this way. 

Ulquiorra stood there watching her, disconcertingly quiet.  
He was patient. And he was not about to sabotage his duties and return to Lord Aizen bearing failure when he'd compromised so much in the previous days to win this foolish woman's dependence and trust. He would align this situation, even if it took unconventional methods, and he would relentlessly prey on the fragility of human emotions and circumvent that 'heart' of hers before crushing its absurdity in front of her very eyes. 

"... Are you afraid of me?" Came the familiar question.  
But it was so quietly spoken, only a steady flow of paused breaths, that if Inoue weren't standing so close to him, she wouldn't have heard it at all. 

"No." It came without hesitation, the same answer she'd given to the one question he seemed not to mind repeating with her. 

The Cuatro watched her, trying to catch any subtle cracks in her expression and resilient facade while his inner person continued to monitor that thing in her chest. 

"... Why?"

Inoue's eyelids rose at the sudden clarity in his tone and the unfamiliar continuity that followed her usual one-word conversation ender.  
In the shadows, there was almost a glinting curiosity in his eyes as he scrutinized her with his lowered eyebrows.  
And something in her began to stir heavily, watching his display of interest.  
Her expression grew pained, and she looked at him with a faltering sadness, gray eyes dimming at the inner turmoil this one question presented. 

Perhaps because a part of her blindly continued to wish that he was protecting her simply because in this world far removed from her own, he could see she really needed it.  
That in chosen moments, he wasn't just indulging in her antics or tasting her meals, or carrying conversations because she was his issued order, that he was genuinely enjoying her company.  
Maybe it was because she'd learned more about him along the way, like brief glimmers of light catching her eyes from within small fissures, piquing her human curiosity as she found herself leaning closer in hopes of seeing more of it.  
And how he'd surprised her sometimes, asking her things about herself he didn't need to know, making her hope there was some remote part of him that still wanted to be reminded of what it was like to be human.  
Many times he'd shown glimpses of vulnerability, not completely letting her past his wall but allowing her to scale its high lengths nonetheless, so that she might see what was on the other side.  


He slept sometimes on her couch, when he had business in nearby stations and he was deprived of rest due to some overnight duties in the desert.  
And she, who had all the pent-up energy and awareness from uneventful days, began to gradually watch his face with interest.  
Her eyes moving over the delicate bridge of his slim nose, studying the small veins barely under the unmarred skin, the thickness of his dark eyelashes and the quaint dip of his frown.  
And she would be reminded periodically, as she lowered to watch his measured breaths, that he really was attractive, almost humanly so.  
When he finally open his eyes, she would begin to ask her reluctant questions about his pastimes and leisure.  
And, more than she had dared to wish, he had relented.  
Rising to gather himself with an uncharacteristic slouch and a hand to his face, answering patiently from behind his palm before he finally left.  
Oftentimes, when she wanted to ask more. 

Even if he knew these things served no purpose save to feed her feeble amusement and curiosity, he regaled her.  
He was tolerant.  
He was good to her.  


And there were those other moments. 

Moments she'd found herself thinking more and more about lately, when in some fleeting points in time, his compulsion to keep things intact caused him to react quite unlike any way she'd seen.  
Reaching out with his hand brushing the ginger strands that strayed into her eyes and fastening the hairs neatly behind her ear, or slowly removing a small piece of thread unknowingly stuck on her sleeve, idly nudging at the partings of her dress when they wedged to some inner folding as she got up, or distractedly angling her utensils and dish to her when the cart's journey had jostled them.  


Little things, that kept her watching the shadowed sway of branches dance on her ceiling when she should be asleep.  
It nursed her, and fed her. And she woke up the next day with something in her heart beginning to grow.  
Hope. 

"I'm not afraid..." She said, looking at him sadly.  
"Because, I know Ulquiorra won't hurt me." Came the fervent whisper. 

Ulquiorra saw the subtle changes going through her eyes.  
They reflected in the gray rims of her warm gaze as she looked down at his coat.  
And within moments, he was seeing that small crack of guilt, beginning to make its way over her features, inflicting a fragility in her resolve. 

The Cuatro took what he could of it.  
She watched his gaze move leisurely over the gentle tousle of her ginger hair.  
"And if you believe this with such certainty..." He murmured, his eyes purposefully on the shards of the hairclips he'd returned.  
"Then you are implying that you also trust me." His eyes keenly moved to hers.

Everything in her tensed when he closed the gap between their feet, taking what little foothold she had from those few inches of space. 

"Your bonds..."  
Those expanding slashed pupils were beginning to lower to the space between their breaths,  
"Your friendships..."  
Her eyes followed the rising motion of his hand as those pale fingers caught the dim light,  
"... your 'heart'..." Came the ghost of breath, his mouth barely parting with a lingering pause.

She felt a small tremble take her shoulders as his hand turned inwards, knuckles brushing, feather light, over the white fabric stretching across her sternum.  
"... Tell me, why do these intangible concepts bring you so much comfort..." He whispered.  
Her face instinctively grew warm at the intimacy generated by his bold gesture.  
His closeness smelled of nothing save for the familiar steam of newly-ironed clothes, a ghosting tang of metal. A misty vapor, a gust of desert wind, and nothing else.  
It was a farce scent that she knew his body wasn't projecting, that came from everything else that bore substance, which happened to be on him. 

"Because I keep you safe, do I not bring you comfort? ... Do I not... have your trust?"  
Inoue's eyes flickered, and Ulquiorra knew already even as her mouth stubbornly tightened, refusing to answer.  
He lowered towards her, gauging the depths of her reaction.  
Inoue pressed against the startlingly cold marbled wall, her breaths beginning to thin at the barest contact of him. Her eyes followed with a hint of trepidation, watching that pale forefinger break away from the curl of appendages in their journey.  
The tip of it met with cloth, skimming an unhurried trail up the trench of her collarbones. Gliding painfully slow past the stitched hems framing the bare flesh of her throat.

"As you have so conveniently implied, you refuse to help in our endeavor. Lord Aizen has entrusted you to me, and should I see fit, perhaps I should seize the opportunity and force you to cooperate..."

She almost made a sound, her neck prickling as that finger hovered for what seemed like a small eternity over the barest thumps of a pulse under her skin before finally nudging lightly into it with startling presence, stifling the rising thrum with a flicker of suppressed Reiatsu. 

"Do you know, how many times I have seen Kurosaki Ichigo since your arrival?" The Cuatro murmured.  
Her eyes widened at the sudden mention of her first love's name.  
He noted the vivid reaction it elicited and effortlessly pounced.  
"How many times I had watched him in the desert, mindlessly approaching with no preparation. I observed him without harming a single hair on his head, simply letting him run his legs weary. And even now, as he storms his way in." 

The breaths she'd been holding hitched with one sharp inhale, as the finger abruptly left, catching at the underside of her chin, forcing her up to meet his void stare.  
It was unforgiving and lacking of anything but a tolerating expectance.  
Inoue ejected a sound when his thumb fastened on tightly, holding the bulk of her flesh in place.  
"You wouldn't." She trembled.  
And as he gave her a mute look, Inoue realized with a sudden unease that he could have.  
Ulquiorra could have done a multitude of things with those opportunities.  
And yet, he hadn't.  
Her chest gave a sudden squeeze that was a mixture of relief... and...

His eyes inspected her diminutively. Patiently.  
It was there, on her face, the light that stirred from within her gray gaze as she raised her eyes to search his. 

"Your foolish friends rush in wreaking havoc, and they invite nothing but trouble when they know there are 10 Espadas and 3 former Captain-level Shinigamis who might very easily kill you with one command."  
The voice was low, deceivingly gentle, if not for the harsh words in it.  
Inoue's eyes began to waver with suppressed fear and conflict.  
Her fingers curled, nails digging into her palms.  
"Tell me..." His face inched closer.  
She watched the shadows glide over the bridge of his nose, molding into the parting of silken raven strands.  
"- where is the logic of your 'heart,' when your friends bargain their lives to _rescue_ you... knowing that they are risking _yours._ "

"I..." She began.  
"I... trust them." She whispered firmly with blind insistence.  
"Even if they disregard your very safety." Came the unhurried query that was more a painful statement. 

Her vision began to blur, watching that stark paleness so close to her person.  
Ulquiorra watched a tear tremble over the edge of one narrowed eye before it finally spilled down her cheek.  
The bead trickled onto the pad of his thumb, and his emerald stare regarded the way it disappeared into her skin as he pressed at it with a slow, sweeping restraint.  
She quivered as another tear quickly followed, gathering into the indented corner of her fleshy mouth.  
He finally released his hold to trail the tips of his fingers over that swelling, rouge mound and up along the dampened trail it left, brushing sideways along the eye rim that birthed it.  
Those pale fingers settled over the shell of her ear, diligently tracing its curves, before nudging an escaped strand of ginger behind it and sweeping the rest of her long locks away from the curve of her neck, exposing the little bit of flesh that strained against that collar.  


"You cry for them." The Cuatro's soft voice fell over her uneven breaths.  
Her eyes squeezed shut with a tremble, crumbling at the gesture that felt so painfully tender, she could almost believe for a brief second that he cared. 

_Did he?_  
Came the same whisper that was gradually growing along with the hope inside her.  


"I trust their decision." Her voice held on. And it was thick with grief, not for herself but for the whole turnout of this situation she had gotten her friends in. 

"Then you have placed your trust in the ones who deliver your death.. Should I convince you?"  
His hand left her cheek to trail along her jaw, thumb brushing at the silken lobe of one ear, causing tingles along her neck and spine, before his mouth followed closely, lingering, because his next words were something the woman needed to hear.  
"They have left you to fight for your survival as they continue to slaughter the ones who feed you. Your notion of bonds and friendships and caring... seem clearly non-existent to them." His lips moved minutely delivering those words with a barren whisper.  
She let out a small jerk of breath, rigid composure shattering at the statement and at the strange way his touch was constricting the air in her chest. 

"And yet, you are still here. With me."  
Her eyes jerked to his, troubled.  
The solidity of his chest pressed to her, concluding any notion of him pulling away.  
And still he continued, patiently peeling away at her resolve. 

"If trust...comes from the 'heart'... "  
His mouth travelled lower down as he spoke, the tips of that dark upper lip ghosting over her warmth.  
"Then will I get that as well..."  
The tip of his nose teased at her cheek, eliciting a spiking response under her skin as her senses honed in on it.  
Those lips were so close, almost brushing over the corner of her own.  
"Your 'heart.' In the palm of my hand...?" Ulquiorra mouthed the question in careful delivery, finally grazing hers. 

Inoue's own lips unconsciously opened at the motion and the Cuatro moved a mere fraction away, lingering with a significant pause.  
"Or... have you already given it to me?" Came the quiet, low breath of a question.  
His dark lashes were lowered, green irises eyeing her fluttering lips.  


Her pulse was thrumming into his mind, and it was becoming apparent on her as her chest jerked with brief rises and falls, her whole body quaking at his unhurried assault. 

"I can't..." She managed with a wedge of breath.  
"Can't." His eyes were deadly still and unflinching.  
"I can't give you something you don't understand...-" The tumble came out from her with a gasp.  
"I don't even know if you belie-" And then he'd suddenly captured her mouth with his own, successfully cutting off any more of her ridiculous words.  
The curls of his bony helm pushed at her cheek and temple painfully, digging with its foreign solidity as he ground into her.  
Angling sideways, he deepened the bruising contact even more, his fingers gripping painfully at her jaw and forcing her to yield for him as she let out a startled cry. 

She began to whimper and her hands reached up, fingers clutching the sleeves over his hard biceps in what he sensed was a struggle for balance just as much as it was an attempt to push away.  
No, this woman was not entirely resistant.  
The Cuatro wouldn't let even a semblance of that chance go.  
Not until she was deduced to a crippled, broken likeness of herself.  
A meek, submissive lamb to do what she was intended for.  
His shoulders hardened.

"Ulquio-" She'd barely formed the words before he took the opportunity and pushed his tongue into that entrance, sweeping along the moist heat within, breaking her quivering form down until her eyes swung dizzy from the blurs in front of her and squeezed shut with the beginning of fresh tears.  
Confused. She was confused. She was angry. She was helpless... because he was very slowly drawing something else out of her.  
He explored ferociously with that muscle, sweeping efficiently into her mouth, unabashedly pushing it over hers until she responded unknowingly even through her wavering objections, feeling the vibrations of her feeble sounds along with the tightening curl of her fingers as they fastened to his shoulders.  
He pulled away with a bare breath as she sobbed and he nudged lower, sharply taking that soft, succulent lower lip into his mouth, laving its warmth with his tongue until he tasted a slight tang. 

His teeth scraped roughly along the silken surface, nipping and sucking until it was abused, rosy and moist.  
And she cried against him, trying to decipher the brimming conflict as he continued his harsh endeavor, a bubble of awakening emotions making her chest ache deeply and sending quivers of heat and jolts through her every fiber.  
And before long, those tears had dampened his skin, slipping between their mouths.  
And he slowly stilled, listening to her traipsing breaths and hiccups, closing his eyes and inhaling the vulnerable, raw humanity it spoke of.

Such profound emotions that gripped her meager body.  
She was so tangled in him that he almost allowed its sudden invasion.  
... Was this the 'heart'?

He tasted the saltiness on his tongue, dulled only by the fact he'd hardly developed the sense for it.  
With a nudge, he gradually moved his shadowed mouth up, giving the fleshy lip leading to her cupid's bow a careful suck until he'd tasted it all. 

The pain and the conflict and her beautiful innocence. 

His ministrations were mild for someone who held such numbness and power.  
He barely had a semblance of feeling it, even as she seemed to grow entirely too sensitive to everything.  
But it seemed he was rough where he shouldn't be.  
And he would yield even more if he wanted more of her.  
He would be patient until she came willingly.  
This aggravating, overly complicated, passionate, warm, beautiful human being. 

He closed his eyes and applied vigilance to stifle his strength, recalibrating to a level she would want to accept him. 

His grip on her relented, fingers lifting away from the beginnings of redness where he held tightly to her jaw.  
They slid towards the curve of her neck, clutching the base of her head forward until she angled for him.  
She didn't know it because her eyes were tightly shut, but his stare remained eerily vacant as he lowered again, sweeping his mouth over hers, this time with a careful patience that almost felt like a request.  
The fingers over her nape trailed higher, sliding over the base of her skull to cradle the back of her head against the wall.  
He lingered over her chin before teasing his parted lips along her cheek and jaw until they touched at her earlobe.  
She shivered, craning to follow and weakening against him.  
"I do not wish to hurt you." It was a breath wrapped with low traces of sound. A reminder.  
Something in his voice, in the tenderness, unwantedly affected her.  
It stirred primal urges in her.  
And he noticed immediately, the way he always did.  
That she softened against him almost straining with unwanted submission.  


Inoue shook, and the quiver reached deep into her stomach, igniting something she'd never felt.  
Her cheeks had flushed in the heated encounter, and her eyes were filled with inner strife and confusion,  
Trying to discern the physical contact, and overwhelming feelings, and sudden departure, and unusual arrival of what she was slowly realizing had been her first kiss.  
She blinked back the dewiness clinging stubbornly to her thick lashes and shook with another wave of fragility as she looked at him.  
Her gray eyes swept his face slowly, until a different expression took over when they lowered to his mouth,  
Studying the soft frown that was the cause of her sudden tumultuous heartbeat, before shying away to the space between them. 

"Woman..." He retracted minutely to whisper.  
At that familiar title, he successfully brought her gaze back.  
And he made her watch as he lowered his own eyes to give ample, slow attention to her still swollen mouth.  
She mistook it as a silent pardon for his earlier roughness.  
And... a restraint he was exerting, despite him seeming to want...

... Did he really _want_ her?  
... Did she?  
The second question was even more frightening, because in the steadying aftermath that followed, she hadn't pushed him away.  
She hadn't moved an inch. 

"Ul-...Ulquiorra." Her voice was a high squeeze.  
He almost enjoyed how ravaged she sounded, only from such a subtle maneuver.  
She shook her head once, the look in her eyes torn.  
"Please, no. I just need to think... This isn't right..." She trailed off, watching him.  
Because those bright emerald eyes that did nothing but dissect every fibre of her, so beautiful and clear but so devoid of anything, uncharacteristically began to close.  
She blinked, gentling at his sudden vulnerability, until he had pressed his forehead to hers - nose nudging intimately, his raven strands falling across her cheeks.  
Her nerves tingled under the surface as she felt the stir of his brief inhale. 

"... Say only 'yes.'" Came the low coax of a murmur.  


The surprising tenderness of such a minute motion sent a small tremor through her and she felt her apprehension dissolving despite the small whisper telling her this was very wrong.  
Her heart squeezed, so painfully. And she didn't know why.  
Why...  
She was gradually releasing his shoulders, sliding her hands up his collars, touching at the sharp, dark strands that fell bracing the sides of his neck and half-helm.  
_This is wrong._  
She gently tangled her fingers in his locks, noting how contrastingly soft they were compared to the rest of him.  
He watched her curious exploration patiently as she lifted those hands and continued to trail over the planes of his jaw and over the marks on his pale skin.  
For all his earlier harshness, she gave back nothing but gentleness.  
Her fingers pressed against the hardness of that bony helm as he leaned in.  


... He gave her a lingering brush of a kiss then.  
A tease of his soft mouth against hers, this time with more permission, and he lingered patiently still until she took the initiative and opened for him, painfully chaste, allowing him to ease his tongue in with a careful, gentle exploration that sent a sudden brimming heat and disorientation through her. She was reeling.  
This. He. Was so different this way.  
Her hands tangled deeper into the thick of his hair, unaware that she was holding him to her.  
Unconscious of the fact that she was beginning to want him.  
"Ulquiorra..." She whispered against his mouth.  
And he indulged her, willingly.  
Sliding the tip of his tongue over the inside of her upper lip and finally biting gently with impressive discipline at the plump cusp, dragging that fragile flesh forward, until she tentatively followed. And he met her, catching her full mouth abruptly causing her to issue a trembling gasp.  
All of her trepidation began to fade away as she lost all touch of time passing, only the heightening throes of her heartbeat threatening to burst out of her chest.  
Her heart swelling with something she couldn't comprehend.  
And he heard it, in the confines of his mind, the frantic leaps of it building with startling pressure.  
It was powerful and massive, and filled with her open honesty.  
Her essence began to fuse with his own Reiatsu and he pulled those warm, particles to him, refusing to let go.

This was what he did to her.  
Unknowingly, what she did to him.  


His hand teased along her ear, brushing her stubborn moist strands away from their exploring mouths.  
The subtle gesture caused a heat to rise in her as she began to find the time to taste him back.  
Ulquiorra stiffened, feeling that dainty tongue of hers reluctantly swipe over his lips.  
He pushed at her with a breath, opening for her, pale fingers grasping into her hair with careful control as he allowed her curious, delicate responses.  


She moaned then.  
A small burst of incoherence coming out of her, making up for all his quiet maneuvers.  
His mouth lowered against that sound, dragging downwards along the thrashing pulse of her neck where he slowly kissed and moistened the bulking vein as it thrummed.  
He felt her throat jerk with a vibration of a helpless whine and his control slipped with a breath, opening his mouth with teeth that bit down over her impossibly soft, heated flesh.  
His tongue swiped out, pressing as leverage to soften the assault before he could break into that thin human skin.  


How she pushed his tolerance, so.  
If it were any other Arrancar, her face wouldn't have escaped without a bloody shredding.  
She was soft... so absurdly fragile.  
The slightest force he exerted would surely break her.  
And he found himself wondering how such creatures managed to survive at all.  
But like her world, she was warm and alive, so much so that she almost burned him.  
All the heat that he was deprived of seemed to be radiating from her.  
He could almost smell the life in the air between them. 

He bit again, harder. Testing her. 

She gasped at the sudden sharpness of pain with a fear surfacing through her haze, and she buckled in response, slipping down enough that the Cuatro's other arm immediately reacted, pinning her with sheer control at the curve below her ribcage while holding her wedged to the wall.  
Inoue's breath escaped with a falter.  
Those firm, calculating fingers curled around the side of her small waist, thumb rising ever so slowly to press into the bulk of her straining ribs. And he ghosted higher with the same pressure, until he pressed into the underside of one breast straining against the material of her dress.  
He brushed his thumb lightly over the curve, finding the restrained perk of one bud and she gasped, suddenly stiffening and pulling her head back to push against the wall.  
Her eyes opened blearily.  
"- Why..." She bit out suddenly, struggling with the haze of wanting him.  
"Why... are you doing this-" 

His face lifted, bright green orbs meeting with hers, those pupils so wide with the focus she'd elicited that they stood starkly black against the color, almost circular.  
"Do you trust me?" He slowly asked.  
His hands were gentle, sweeping over the curves of her neck, and she looked at him, torn until her gaze lowered unbidden, to the pale hand resting over her collar.  
"... Yes." She finally whispered.  
He leaned closer, studying the mouth that had finally given him his straight answer. 

...

"I needed only to confirm it."

Her gaze rose to his face, struggling to discern that statement.  
"What do you mean?" She whispered.  
His hands lowered and he moved away then, too abruptly though his motions held all their usual leisure, and Inoue found in their wake he'd left a dull ache from his cold departure.  
The Cuatro gave her that mute stare.  
The one she'd grown so familiar with, completely barren, but weighty in its presence to capture whoever looked upon him, nonetheless. 

And then he spoke. 

"... I do not care for this 'heart'. Place it wherever you see fit, to whoever you would like to give it to. If you can indulge yourself with beliefs of bonds and friendships and if you choose to delude yourself with fantasies of heroic rescues, I cannot stop you."  
She stood, slack with her mouth open, unable to deal with the sudden magnitude of such an emotional slam of words. She felt her heart shattering into a million pieces under his unrelenting, unfeeling stare. 

"You have given me your trust, and that is all I need for you to cooperate. You can trust that I will protect you. That I will not hurt you. That I will come for you, should you be in any form of distress. And you can trust that if I say Kurosaki Ichigo will die by my hand, it is certain to happen. Do what is asked of you, or I will be forced to have you watch his demise."

And then he had slipped his hands slowly back into his pockets, leaving her deprived of air and speech and even feeling. 

With one last inspection ascertaining the damage he had dealt, he closed his eyes and turned, completely unfazed by the whole encounter.  
"Your food should arrive in the next ten minutes. If this encounter has robbed you of an appetite, then you are free to leave it. And you may _trust_ that I will not be strapping you down and forcing the contents down your throat."  
And then he was walking away from her. 

If she did not respond quite so well to being indulged with conversation, or spoiled with ridiculous food offers, or captured by his repeated rescues...  
Then he would take what he needed with force. 

And take, he had. 

Lord Aizen would be less than pleased at the news of him breaking his beloved princess.  
But it would have cost far more if he'd known she still refused to help with his plan.  
It was always a matter of the most efficient way.  
And should it entail certain sacrifices, he would prefer it to absolute ineffectiveness. 

The door closed with a mute click and he departed down the hallway, coat tails easing with his steadily furthering gait towards his next and final destination, his room. 

Inoue stood there in the dark.  
Her stare remaining on the marble door in disbelief and horror, her insides twisting with a lancing panic and suspended shock so paralyzing, she hadn't even thought of reaching out to slap him. 

She felt the roiling of a sudden nausea as the idea of such heartlessness, such cruelty. The whole ordeal made her want to completely expel it from her very person. His touch and his tongue and how she had wanted it all.  
Inoue's fingers pressed to her mouth, trembling with self-loathing and disgust because strangely... she couldn't refuse him, even now. 

She didn't realize until another moment later, that she was crying. Her sobs bubbling out of her, unheeded as she crippled to the floor next to the wall and clutched at her chest as her very insides broke. 

She had been so stupid.  
Stupid for even entertaining the thought that for a moment, she felt he wanted her back.  
Stupid for hoping there was anything in him she could save.  
Stupid for believing that perhaps, there was a chance to fix him. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> And there you have Inoue's first/second/third/I-have-lost-count kiss/es.  
> Such heartbreak. Much shattered.
> 
> I'm sorry.  
> Not really. 
> 
> The next chapter MIGHT be Inoue-ccentric since this chapter was very Ulqui-ccentric.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos, and the comments and for reading.  
> And as always, till the next update!
> 
> \- Second_Best


	14. Las Noches: Espada Meeting Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> In the anime, Loli/Loly and Menoly assault Inoue while Ichigo and Ulquiorra are fighting.  
> When Ichigo rushes in to save her, Loly threatens to pull out Inoue's eye.  
> Despite this, stubborn boy rushes forward anyway.  
> Ulquiorra blocks him, ultimately preventing any further harm to Inoue.
> 
> I altered this part to serve a more dramatic purpose.  
> But the premise of our beloved Cuatro 'saving Inoue' is still there regardless. 
> 
> #CANONFEELS.

-

Those black wings with rough furs dragged across the sands of Hueco Mundo. 

Blood trailing along the dampened tips like an inky trail of death to anyone who wished to approach.  
It had been a long time.  
How much of it, Ulquiorra didn't care to know or understand.  
It was what he'd seen that served as a gauge.  
And he had seen plenty. 

Those bodies coming for him, black and wretched and completely different from his starkly pale form.  
And they had attacked as if holding all the vengeance of their thousands of consumed souls.  
He crawled out of the dark pits where he was born and emerged into another hoard.  
He pummeled through that just as effortlessly.  
Somehow they all fell, with a swipe or two, as if they were paper-dolls held to a chainsaw.

Countless days and nights, leaving mountains of bodies behind.  
Carnage and blood at his feet.  
The one thing that kept him fighting was the need to evolve, consumed by something more powerful than himself. 

And that was all the bitter irony of what he lived for: The end to his cycle. 

Though he had no mouth, he didn't have a semblance of need to consume something so pathetic. And the next one who could eat him would be something that finally did. 

But now, standing within a dune while pushing off another dead body, something had caught his eyes. 

And when it had, he began to gravitate to it, with all the emptiness that ached for something to anchor itself to. 

Trees. 

He had never seen such a sight.  
Brilliantly shining, though he could tell at a glance, completely devoid of life.  
He reached the top to stare up at the expanse of stillness that greeted him.  
A quiet peace he had never known compelling him to take instinctive steps forward, towards those crystal husks.  
And as he pushed himself into those branches, only wanting to disappear into them, into Nothing, they seemed to repel him and his very presence; unlike all the creatures who had sought him out.  
Pushing their spires into his face even as he fought closer, until those branches shattered a fourth of his bony helm, exposing his armored fleshiness underneath to the subtle breeze.  
He lay there, simply in wait for the next creature that would find him. 

It wasn't long before one did. 

His eyes opened to the crooked Hueco Mundo moon, and a light shuffle that had stopped directly in front of his talon-ed feet.  
The shadowed presence of a man, wearing white robes, peering down at him.

"Hollow..." Came a voice that held no hint of taunt or malice.  
"Are you a Vasto Lorde?"

A mere inquiry, with a subtle authority bracing it as a stronghold. 

"I am Nothing. Born from Nothingness."  
He closed his eyes, only waiting for the next moment to unfold. 

"That is quite interesting. To be born of Nothing." The voice continued smoothly.  
"And who am I speaking to..." 

Something in him moved to answer, if only to be distinguished and identified. 

"... Ulquiorra..." He whispered, not bothering to open his eyes.  
"Ulquiorra Cifer."  
It was quiet for a moment, and Ulquiorra almost fell back into the remnants of his interrupted trance. 

"Ulquiorra..." 

At the uninvited and threatening caress of power penetrating into his Hollow hole, he opened his eyes, slit pupils fastening with alertness at the man.  
The wind blew a single stray lock of brown along the intruding person's forehead.  
It brushed across observant golden eyes. 

"You are no longer Nothing, Ulquiorra. Your existence is clear, and it bears a name. I am here speaking to you and acknowledging your presence, am I not?" 

He continued to simply watch, not bothering to provide anything for the man's query.  
It was quite obvious what the answer was anyway.  
And still the voice of the man continued. 

"The trail you have left behind has led me to you."

Ulquiorra watched him raise a robed hand to sweep at the shadows behind him.  
A few bodies lay, smeared in blood, some decapitated and mangled, along the trench that swept up towards his current residence. 

"Though born from Nothing, you are clearly Something now. Something greater than what you are, if you continue."

There was a brief spark in those brown eyes, and Ulquiorra gave a bare lift of his head, one green eye staring out from the crack on his mask, surveying this creature and his intentions more thoroughly. 

"I have no inclination to be anything. I will survive and I will be eaten. There is nothing more. This world has no meaning to me."

He spoke carefully, and finished abruptly, wanting for the conversation to end.  
It seemed to have an adverse effect on the one standing above him, his clean eyebrows rising with an expression of intrigue.

" _This world_ , you say? And why would you say such a thing?"

There was something misplaced about how the man simply stood there, without a care for the terrors of the creatures and world around him. 

Something confident.  
Something powerful. 

... Something very different. 

"Because my eyes see everything, and everything I have seen means nothing." 

Ulquiorra braced himself until he was slightly crouched forward, feeling the waves of a foreign energy, unlike any he'd come across, assaulting his form.  
He reacted instinctively in the face of its malevolence.  
If he were to be eaten, he would have to test this man before he allowed it. 

"Tell me, why are you here, Ulquiorra?" The intruder continued with that interested candor and none of the intimidation he was expecting. 

"This is where I belong." He answered, simply. 

"So you wish to belong..."

The accuracy of his words piqued his attention.  
Ulquiorra watched him pull away, fastening his arms neatly behind him and angling his face as if to survey the immediate, and desolate area surrounding the majestic grove. 

The man's head tilted outwards.  
"These trees are beautiful, yes. There are many fine clusters all over Hueco Mundo, and they never fail to draw one's attention." He mused. 

"Do all crystal groves of Hueco Mundo hold significant meaning to you, Ulquiorra? Surely, you cannot belong to all of them. Have you approached every single one and grown to favor this particular batch?"

He cast a knowing look back down on the Hollow. 

Something at those words seemed to mock his decision to stay here, if not hidden under veiled subtlety.

One thing was clear, if this man's words to be true.  
This place was not special, and it was simply one of many.  
The discovery of something to alleviate his existence faded away, and he was once again left with nothing but his Emptiness. 

"Perhaps you have realized something..." Came the man's silent murmur, as if reading from his thoughts completely.  
Ulquiorra's green eyes wandered back to the form in silent observation. 

_Who was this man?_

"Whether I am here, or anywhere. It changes nothing. In a world without meaning, I have no purpose."

"... Then it is most fortunate that we have met."

Those brown eyes pierced into his green ones.  
Something in the man's tone suggested he had been waiting for this particular point in the conversation. 

It felt like the beginnings of a proposition.  
... Or the beginnings of a confrontation. 

Eitherway, it would need to end, as all meaningless things eventually do.  
Ulquiorra sat up, swiping his wings sideways from both sides and sending the crystal branches hurtling.  
He unfurled those dark sails, and they stretched out to twice his height in their length, flanking his sides as he rose to a stand. 

"What is it you want? Be clear." He said in a low voice. 

The man didn't appear the least bit intimidated, even if it seemed as if Ulquiorra could easily send someone his size flying for a hundred meters across the sandy dunes with a mere flick of a bat wing. 

Perhaps, it was not that simple. 

"Allow me to show you something, Ulquiorra."

The man moved with all his composure and grace, reaching for something on his side. And then it had emerged, a sliver of light catching on a blade as its full length was drawn out from its sheath. 

Ulquiorra's green eyes stayed fixated on it, until a shimmer behind the man caught his stare. He looked behind him and his emerald gaze widened to see the whole desert morphing before his very sight.  
Amethyst vines were writhing along the grounds and snaking up, tangling into each other. Not an inch of sand was left, as their roots twisted out, branches erupting with a flourish of tinkles, growing high out of the ground and spreading their arms with awakened yawns towards the dark skies.  
And as Ulquiorra's wings lowered, he watched the whole world, the only world he'd ever known, disappear to be replaced by an abundant, giant crystal forest that rose with mountains and stretched endlessly over the expanse of Hueco Mundo. 

An entirely different realm. 

It stole his breath.  
And after a few moments of it hitched into his throat, his wide green eyes wandered back to the man as he calmly stood there, observing him.  
The lights that glimmered reflected across his brown gaze, neutral as the first time he'd looked upon him. 

_This man..._

Ulquiorra watched him carefully now, straightening to his full height for the first time since they met. 

_This man can control the things I see._

"You say this world holds no meaning..."

He slipped the sword back into its sheath and with a firm clack.  
The whole mirage faded away and evaporated, like countless parted spirits of fireflies ascending to the sky.  
Ulquiorra's shoulders lowered and he regarded the man with wary attentiveness. 

"This world is full of illusions. Of false safety, and material comforts, and temporary power. If you find no meaning and purpose in that, then your eyes have seen this world for what it is." 

He took a step forward, and Ulquiorra's eyes wandered behind him to see two more forms ascending the sand dunes wearing similar white robes. 

"You have a gift to look beyond what this world has to offer." The man continued speaking, unfazed.  
"And it is this power... that has separated you from the thousands of bodies you have left behind."

Ulquiorra looked for the first time, with some expectancy, at the coming moments. And he realized, that something in him had changed.  
Because of this man who had assaulted his one reliable sense, and shown him a sight he had never seen. 

_Who is this man?_

"Are you seeing it now? The world that lies beyond this one?"  
Ulquiorra paid no attention to the two who now hovered at his left and right.  
His eyes were only focused on the one man he was interested in. 

He did not trust in this man. 

But he stirred something in Ulquiorra, dangling knowledge of something undiscovered just beyond his reach.  
This man saw, well beyond where his own eyes had looked. 

Something in him knew, though he didn't care at all if it happened, that this man would kill him. Now that he'd brought out that sword and shown him his illusions. 

The very things he needed to see were appearing, contorting and fading in front of him. 

And Ulquiorra knew that if he couldn't rely on his eyes... then there was no sense to even try fighting at all.  
He wouldn't mind giving his consciousness to someone who could so easily overpower him. 

"Kill me, if you wish." He found himself saying.  
"It seems you are the only one I have encountered who can. There is nothing here for me. And there will be others born, who will take my place when I am gone."

The man looked down at him, and his brown eyes softened in an expression Ulquiorra had never in all his years encountered in a world of violence and bloodshed. 

"Ulquiorra Cifer..." The fluid tenor called his full name.  
He watched the man remove his hand from the hilt of his sword before he slipped it into one pocket.  
The man's mouth lifted generously at the ends, touching the corners of his eyes and lending them a light that was not from Hueco Mundo's cold moon.  
Those irises softened and warmed, as if held to a candle. 

Gentleness, despite the immense power Ulquiorra sensed from within. 

Something manifested from the depths of the mishmash that comprised Ulquiorra's current form...  
A flicker of forgotten desires that he had wished for and never received, in all the lives of his past, that smile reminded him of certain things:  
Kindness.  
Acceptance.  
Assurance. 

"Killing you is the last thing I wish to do." The man finally said.  
Ulquiorra's eyes widened slightly. 

... Respect. 

He stood back, looking at Ulquiorra as if the latter held something formidable and promising. "If you do not mind wielding a sword..."

"Come." His hand extended with a lifted motion before lowering.  
"... And I will show you your purpose... in a new world."

\---

Ulquiorra's eyes opened as the towel on his head fell into a heap on his hands and over the sand.  
He really should not be doing two things at once.  
But once the woman's friends had started penetrating the inner rims of Las Noches, things had finally begun to hasten. 

Lord Aizen disappeared twice without prior notice.  
Not even Ichimaru Gin or Kaname Tosen seemed to know where he was at those points in time. 

Though the Espada were privy to his current plans, they didn't know the specifics of the future after the invasion. His soldiers lingered in their Quarters or observed from the towers. Some were bored, some grew antsy, others vented by being confrontational or withdrew into apathy.

And then there was Baraggan, who insisted he issue orders on Lord Aizen's behalf.  
The remaining Espada converged in idleness in the meeting room to put the former king in his place.  
Ulquiorra closed his eyes to the man's rumbled declarations, too disinterested to truly listen.  
From what he gathered, the man was proposing to send all their subjugated Menos armies into chosen Gargantas both in Soul Society and the Human Realm to serve as chaos-inducing distractions.  


"I highly advice against this, sire. We will be sacrificing a significant portion of our armies without a proper strategy. And the Espada won't be able to act without orders, hence, there won't be a front-line defense. I, most of all, will not stand for meaningless sacrifices."  
Tier Harribel crossed her arms and closed her eyes.  
Lush, flaxen eyelashes pressed irately to her sun-kissed cheeks as she buried her bone mouth lower into her collar. 

"What is a war without sacrifice, child! We invade with an element of surprise, and through numbers and strength. All the proper combinations to take those confounded Shinigami down." Came the King's emboldened declaration along with a hefty slam of his fist on the table. 

"I echo Tier-sama's sentiment. It is unwise to move without our Lord's orders." Zonmari directed his saccharine-yellow eyes to the mustached man.  
"There is sure to be punishment from the Commanders of the Arrancar army for taking their soldiers."

Nnoitra pushed himself forward with a wide gnash of teeth and a squinted glare.  
"Do you know how many days I spent weedin' out those forests to find Menos Grande worth polishing Santa Teresa with? I took out acres of dipshit lowlifes before I found any cretins worth spittin' shine on." He jabbed a pointed finger at the king and widened his snarky grin.  
"I ain't undoing all my work for your hoity-toity smack. Why don't you listen to me for a change, eh?" He lingered slyly.  
"I'd float my medieval ass down to the tunnels and serve those pet's friend's a hefty stench of death."

"I dislike your language and tone, whelp." Baraggan warned. 

"If stick-ass here didn't spare that fucking strawberry boy because of his virginal devotions..." The blue-haired Sexta sent Ulquirra a dry glower.  
"-We'd all probably be in Karakura Town raining a shit storm by now. Everyone else who came for that woman isn't worth jack."  
Grimmjow pushed his leg into the marbled table with emphasis, sending it grinding an inch towards the Cuatro seated directly in front of him. 

"Congratulations on your stupendous judgment." He gave a few obnoxious claps, lurching back into his seat with a broad clench of teeth.  
"Your balls must be high and dry to serve that bastard on a platter just for your little princess. Now we gotta be stuck here cleaning up your skinny-ass cum."

The Cuatro eyed the table briefly before sending him an even stare.  
He lifted a hand and deftly realigned the marble as he spoke. 

"As I said in my report: He is not a threat. But even if he were, it is crucial we lure Kurosaki Ichigo to Hueco Mundo. He holds a chain of command that strongly influences Soul Society's military power. To break this chain by separating the parties is to weaken them."

"Oh, yea?" The Sexta leaned in with a flash of icy blue orbs.  
"Only chain I see is the one you're crying for when you're with the little princess." He slurred, grinning sadistically with a nod at Ulquiorra's Hollow hole. 

"Who cares." Nnoitra tilted with a slinky smile at Grimmjow.  
"Eitherway, the boss wouldn't bring a feral pussy like you." He vehemently jabbed.  
"You'd attack any meat stick on legs. We require some smarts."  
The Quinto tossed his large hooded head to the rafters with a snarky laugh. 

"Why don't you go sew another bonnet for the princess, Little fucking Bo Peep."  
Snarled the Sexta, smashing his open palm into the table. 

Starrk lifted his head glumly from his palm.  
"Stop. Both of you. This is such a waste of energy."

"Go back to bed, Snow White." The Quinto snapped. 

"Mm?" The dull blue gaze of the oldest Espada lifted, "Who's that?"  
"How the hell should I know, random soul's memory." Nnoitra dismissively waved. 

The verbal sparring-slash-waiting game continued while the intruders wormed their way in. 

-

It was only after a few long hours that Aizen later reappeared, acting as if nothing had happened.  
He then began to call meetings upon his own convenience - thus far provoking a loudly-conceited Nnoitra at 3 in the morning (who swung his Santa Teresa into the back of Starrk's chair, while the latter continued to sleep), and an irrationally-antagonistic Grimmjow just before breakfast, (who had sent a tray-bearing servant smashing up to the ceiling, along with his and the Cuatro's tea and breakfast.)

Brushing off the instances, the Shinigami merely took to his dry-leaf cup while assigning certain Espada to wait on designated enemies, and tying up the last of his plans on Operation: King's Key. 

After Ulquiorra had settled in for the night following his rounds surveying the tunnels, he had suddenly called another one-on-one with him, no doubt to discuss the woman and his duty to take care of Las Noches while the siege on Karakura Town was in effect.

The Cuatro raised the now-damp towel with one hand, fluffing it once to clear sandy granules from it, before looking back down at the glimmering orb he held in one palm.  
Droplets from his freshly-showered hair clung to the tips of his locks before cascading down the curves of precarious alabaster shoulders.  
He slipped the towel back into his hair and concentrated, closing his eyes and refocused on finishing the sealing with his Spiritual Imprint.  
Once he was done, he lifted the orb to the light, watching it carefully.  
The smoky green hues of Reishi swirling within were fusing with the orb's purple neutralizing agent, compressing his power into dormancy.

To think something so small, something he could crush so easily in his hand, could hold remnants of his existence long after his physical body was incapacitated.  
Ulquiorra had been a natural Arrancar once upon a time, one of a kind, as he had never possessed a weapon, and ever since Lord Aizen had used the Hogyoku to transfer half of his power into the blade he now kept sheathed around his waist, he had never completely liked the idea.  
Having bits of himself in other objects... 

His eyes wandered towards the crystal trees.

Or in other beings. 

An image of the woman's gray eyes, those rims glistening in silver light as she watched the branches, filled his mind.  
There was something about the way she held such fervent awe looking at those trees...  
There was something about it that made him... warm. 

And then, when his mouth had been on hers...-

He dismissed the thought abruptly and rose, dusting the sand off his beige linen pants and bare stomach before heading for his wardrobe dresser to change into his uniform. 

\---

.  
.  
.

Inoue watched the servant Adjuchas come into the room with her lunch.  
She came in with the familiar high chirping creak the shield user was steadily growing familiar with.  
There were only two carts that always came everyday, and one of them had a wheel that badly needed greasing.  
The other one had a wheel that wobbled. 

Another meal, another cart.

At the sight of the silver domes, her stomach gave a nervous lurch before the same bout of nausea that had assaulted her for the past two days steadily roiled up her throat, seizing the muscles and making them clench with distaste.  
Inoue swallowed and took a step back as a gesture of diplomacy.  
She knew they weren't comfortable with her, though she'd tried many times to ease the atmosphere with small talk and smiles, they never did quite engage her. 

As was the drill, the familiar masked female serf wearing a ribbed woven dress was her companion today.  
She gave a clipped nod and lifted the lids off the entrees. 

"Thank you." The ginger-haired girl whispered, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach.  
Her gray eyes lifted, looking the woman over before dropping to the rug.  
"You've been so kind. Bringing me my meals... and I'm lucky I get to enjoy them..."

The serf seemed to pause for a moment, halfway towards the tray that held Inoue's previously unfinished breakfast. 

"I know... you've all worked so hard to prepare my food. All the dishes are so well-done... And you've even added ingredients Ulquiorra has told you I'm fond of. And I'm sorry... if I've hardly eaten through one or two bowls in the last two days. I just..."  
Inoue trailed off, and then looked up, her mouth lifting with a gentle, but weary smile.  
"I'll try to work up a bit more of an appetite."  
She pushed her eyes into trying beams.  
"I just want you to know I appreciate it, and that it's delicious. Well, what I've had of it anyway..." Her voice lowered as she cringed. 

She felt the guilt mosey around in her at how contrived her statement seemed to be.  
And she felt horrible for not being able to stomach anything more than a few bites here and there.  
Ever since Ulquiorra had forcibly (and then, not-so-forcibly) kissed all rationality away and left her feelings completely at his disposal before crushing them under his boot, her stomach had independently decided that it didn't feel like accepting any more than necessary of what the Arrancar had to offer. 

"It's not your fault-!" She couldn't help blurting out to the servant who had begun to turn around with a bowed spine, pushing away the previous tray cart.  
"Please know you're doing a great job!"

To her relief and surprise, the serf actually spared her a glance and gave a brief, soundless nod before placing a palm against the door and disabling the lock.  
She let herself out and the door closed behind her. 

Inoue listened to those light footsteps disappearing down the hall, and she couldn't help letting out a frustrated groan.  
A hand slapped lightly at her rounded cheek, and she looked down, finally releasing a long-suffering sigh, relieving the heaviness that constantly gathered in her chest. 

"Your boss is really just a... -" Her eyebrows came together and she crossed her arms.  
"A butt-hole!" She declared to the room, feeling slightly better.

It was a pathetic attempt at insult compared to some of the words Kurosaki-kun, Abarai-kun and at times even Tatsuki-chan meaninglessly slung around. 

But Inoue never did foster ill-bred vocabulary. 

That's right... Ulquiorra was a butt-hole.  
A butt-hole who possessed an impressive kissing ability that went with an equally abhorrent personality.  
Not that she'd had any kisses to compare them with in actual life.  
She cringed. 

But she'd watched so many romantic movies, she could practically place his lip-tongue combinations into the top three of those. 

....

Unbelievable. 

"No!" She declared, slamming both her hands against her cheeks, this time, growing red with both shame and fury.  
Just the idea she was even thinking about his tongue when he'd trampled all over the ideals she shared with her friends, the very human nature she possessed that made her stronger, the very beliefs she'd built her foundations on, her very _person_. 

He had mocked it all. 

He had forced her to expose her _heart_ \- calloused from the battle-scars of a less-than-stellar childhood being beaten, disliked and discarded.  
It was a heart barely beating after the death of the only one who ever cared for her.  
A heart later healed, that begun to flourish with the showering of acceptance, of love, of bonds.  
And he had taken advantage of its miraculously warm and generous nature, and he had thrown it back at her face after milking it. 

It was painful.  
Because Ulquiorra knew of its fragility, and he'd still done it. 

The nerve of that man, trying to confirm he had her Trust.  
If anything, he'd completely undone any sort of semblance of Trust that was there in the first place!  
He obviously didn't understand what it was at all.  
That was the disadvantage to his pretty-eyes-that-see-all-things.

Inoue huffed and realized her hands were fisted and yanking without mercy at the slits of her skirt.  
She quickly released the white cloth, smoothing begrudgingly at the wrinkles, if anything out of respect for the ones who made her clothes.  
She frowned down at the stitches now straining and loose. 

Tatsuki-chan would have given him a few roundhouse kicks and a backhanded slap before beating his face down into the ground. 

How could he take advantage of her like that!  
After all the days she spent getting to know more about him.  
After feeling like she was actually making some progress.  
To say he cared for absolutely nothing of that, to make fun of her for wishing... 

Wishing he... 

She felt the rising anger again, and sent the door a pouting glower before stalking off towards the direction of the couch and tossing herself into it with a stiffened thump.  
She hugged her arms and lifted her face up at the crooked Hueco Mundo moon.  
And she listened to the distant howls of wind, carrying on with another creature's forlorn cry. 

What she'd give not to hear those sounds anymore. 

"Kurosaki-kun."

Without even really thinking about it, she'd said his name again.  
She wondered where he was, how hard he was fighting.  
How much all of them were fighting for her. 

A flash of his orange hair and his brilliant smile came across her mind, and it was later replaced with the scenic routes of her town, and her school, and all her friends.  
And she realized that it wasn't just about him anymore.  
That one name encompassed the one wish she wanted most of all: 

She wanted to go home.  
She wanted them all to go home together. 

Inoue saw her vision blurring before she really was aware she'd begun to tear up again.  
But she couldn't always be such an emotional mess, and she couldn't always rely on her friends.  
She wouldn't always have them with her.  
And she couldn't always be the one standing behind them while they all rushed in.  
Right now, it was her turn to do something for them. 

To be strong for them, with them. 

In some ways, her optimism began to tell her, she had to be grateful for Ulquiorra.  
She swiped the back of a hand over her eyelids and straightened with resolve.

She would prove him wrong. And they would all go home.  
She wouldn't yield to him anymore.  
And once they took her to that vault again, she knew exactly what she had to do with the Hogyoku. 

She really should thank him.  
Her face took on a resolved expression.  
Oh, she would thank him alright.  
He was indirectly pushing her to grow her backbone. 

\---

The handsome Shinigami sat in all his magnificent splendor at the head of the table.  
"All preparations are in place. Dare I say, more successfully than we anticipated?"  
He gave an amiable lift of mouth.  
"We will invade 'Karakura Town' as planned, with lesser resistance from Soul Society."  
With a horse mane brush, used out of habit more than anything, he slashed a few Shinigami names from the paper under his nose.  
"I propose we call it 'Fake Karakura Town' - What'dya think, Captain?"  
Gin lightly traipsed. 

"Fitting."  
Aizen looked up briefly from the parchment plans on the Espada meeting desk, before genially nursing his steaming cup of tea with an intertwining of long fingers. 

"I have called Starrk and Lilynette, Baraggan and his fraccion, Harribel and hers, as well as Wonderweiss to the front lines. They should be adequate to rival the remaining party."  
His voice echoed more prominently, as it always did when there were lesser occupants in the room. 

Ulquiorra sat to Aizen's left, in his usual place - while the rest of the seats remained empty, with only Gin and Kaname flanking the head seat around their Captain. 

Aizen's brown gaze traced the curls of steam emanating from his white cup before finally looking over his beloved Cuatro. 

"You did propose, in one of our previous meetings, that if Kurosaki Ichigo were to become a threat to Las Noches, you would gladly take care of him, yes?"

"I will see to it, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra answered. 

"A shame, as you would have been an excellent addition to our offensive team. If you require Grimmjow's assistance, I am more than certain he will be willing to execute for you..."  
Aizen gave a small, curling smile that almost seemed to tease.  
There was no answer from his victim, and the man braced a hand to his cheek, moving along in jest with a graze of a finger over his temple. 

"A break from the current briefing prep if I may, how is my dear Orihime doing?"

Ulquiorra didn't miss the way Ichimaru Gin shifted sideways with a wide, sardonic smile.  
The Cuatro closed his eyes with a tilt of his helm. 

"Your instructions were to 'make her feel as if she were one of us,' to ensure her safety, and to earn her trust. In the previous days, I have warranted the delivery of food befitting her taste, as well as occasionally providing respite, as it were, to her uneventful captivity, oftentimes by entertaining her questions and facilitating conversations in and out of her cell. Unfortunately, upon facing deliberate questioning, she still refuses to assist with the Hogyoku. Hence I have taken to more drastic measures to attain her cooperation..."

"We all know Inoue Orihime's purpose is not to restore the Hogyoku."  
The ex-Captain's fingers slipped under his chin as he gave Ulquiorra a meaningful lift of his eyebrows. 

"Simply a question posed to gauge her allegiance. Because she serves as bait for the others... I suspect preventing her from interfering with the battles will become an issue, if we do not have her loyalty."  
Ulquiorra answered. 

"Do you believe it will be an issue?" The dangerous linger in the man's smooth tenor went unmissed. 

"She bears a strong will, I have seen it. But it is not to our advantage, it is to the invading party's. It could complicate things if she were to fall into distress, as she is so prone to doing." The Cuatro flatly stated. 

"It proves difficult to separate a human from their emotions. I appreciate your ascertaining this, Ulquiorra. As I know her loyalties are to your advantage as well..."

Ulquiorra lifted his eyes a little too quickly.  
The ex-Captain merely smiled back.  
Of course, Lord Aizen saw through most things. 

"We must assume Inoue Orihime is the only one who can... bring you back..."  
The handsome Shinigami gave an ample sip of his tea with a careful lowering of his eyes.  
The cup touched over marble with a discreet clink and his hand lifted with a sweep.  
"As per your report, and our observance, her powers are an outright rebellion to the orders of god. Should anything befall you, and should she bear such an attachment to you, it is predictable that she will simply work her magic."  
Those brown eyes locked on his.  
"Something... out of Nothing. Fitting. Wouldn't you say?"  
He gave a glance towards the rectangular object beside him, before discarding all thought with a wave of one elegant hand.  
"For now, let us simply hope she does not disappoint us." Came the vague monotonous tone, replacing all traces of light-heartedness. 

Ulquiorra's eyes lowered as the man pushed the silver case housing the orbs towards him.  
"You have my instructions." Aizen's brown eyes slowly lifted.  
"Yes, Aizen-sama."  
"And I will expect that you join me after you've done away with our persistent rescuers?"  
"As soon as I am finished." Ulquiorra answered obediently.  
"Use a discreet Garganta, at least two spiritual hectares away from the town."  
The Shinigami instructed.  
"And speaking of Gargantas, I will be locking all Soul Society Captains along with the intruders in Hueco Mundo before we depart. I trust they will not escape your wrath, should the others fail to suppress them..." He lingered expectantly. 

"As you wish."

"Good. Once this is over... Our world, Ulquiorra, will no longer be Hueco Mundo."  
That smile lifted, grandly. 

"... I kissed her."

Aizen's eyebrows rose, though the rest of his face was not at all surprised, and more possibly irate due to his grandiose introduction being nullified by such a statement.  
The unseeing eyes behind Kaname Tosen's visor seemed to move sideways as he wordlessly stiffened.  
And then Ichimaru Gin finally angled enough that he was intruding on Aizen's broad left shoulder with an inquiring arch of his beam eyes.  
"Nah, ya did? Ain't that bold of ya, Ulquiorra-san. I was starting to think it was a glitch on the monitor after a while." He purred with faux surprise. 

"... How unexpected. Though I am certain you have your reasons."  
Aizen's nose was partially hidden in his cup as the rim lifted.  
He gave the Cuatro a short glance.  
"And how did she take it?"  


Ulquiorra could read the touch of ominous inspection in those eyes before it was gone and his lips had pressed to the glass with another mute sip. 

"Ya gotta wish she took it willingly, with a slip of tongue." Gin's coiling jest trickled discreetly into the Cuatro's ear.  
"A noticeable decrease in her appetite." Ulquiorra dutifully reported, ignoring the obnoxious ex-Captain.  


There was an eerie chuckle that Ulquiorra knew held more abrasiveness than actual mirth.  
It was empty and only reached so far between them.  


"I advise you apologize, Ulquiorra..."  
The Cuatro matched those tempered brown orbs.  
"- If you wish to leave a good impression." He finished darkly in a lower voice. 

Gin's smile pulled up, unfazed by the subtle leak of Reiatsu from his Captain. 

"I will stop by her room to check on her next meal." 

If there was any sign he'd been struck at all by the slight animosity, the Cuatro showed no signs of it.  
He took the silver case of orbs and deftly slipped it into his pocket.  
Aizen eased into a partially reclined sit, sliding a paper graciously with a finger and angling it on the desk towards Ulquiorra.  
He tapped at the printed surveillance shots of the Espada frozen in confrontation. 

"Please continue to monitor the fights of Aaroniero, Szayel and the Privaron. And do keep Yammy in his Quarters unless it is absolutely necessary for him to join you. I would like to spare as much of my fortress domes from his destruction for the final briefings after the war is over."  
His hand left the paper to return to his cheek. 

"Duly noted." Ulquiorra said. 

"Ya got quite a vocabulary of 'affirmatives', Ulquiorra-san." Came the squinty-eyed amusement of the silver-haired ex-Captain.  
"Gin, give our beloved Cuatro Espada a break. " The brown-haired captain's own eyes were crinkled moons, having to do most likely with his jovial mood. 

"Ulquiorra, you are dismissed."

The green-eyed Arrancar stood with a slight bow and slowly walked out of the meeting room. 

\---

It was an hour after lunch that the lock over her door gave an almost deafeningly familiar clop.  
Inoue lowered her hairbrush to the dresser and slowly stepped away from her open closet.  
"I am coming in."  
She gripped her sleeve at his familiarly chilling tone.  
A few seconds, not even amounting to five and the marble doors were creaking as the fake sunlight from the hallway flooded in, illuminating the familiar white uniform and bony helm. 

At the sight of the Cuatro, and his assault so fresh in her mind, Inoue immediately stiffened, her skin tingling with building tension.  
He couldn't even grant her those extra seconds of reprieve anymore?  
That insignificant fact spurned her.  
A startling wave of adrenaline coursed fresh anger and nervousness into her veins as she convincingly locked with his dead stare. 

He only subdued her with a forward step. 

Her irises narrowed resentfully and she pressed to the couch with a tightened hunch, her stomach churning with anxiety and a compulsive urge to run over and slap him at the same time. 

Ulquiorra approached, gauging her silently as he always did.  
He stopped just at the end of the short hallway that broke into the bigger portion of her Quarters.  
For a moment, they simply looked at each other.  
And then after what felt like at least an hour, Ulquiorra, with a slight lowering of his chin, finally spoke. 

...

"... I apologize."

Inoue stared hard for what seemed like another minute, unable to comprehend, before finally feeling a stiffening soreness assaulting the corners of her face.  
She realized her mouth was dangling open in an impressive display of teeth worthy of a dentists' perusal.  
She quickly closed it, cringing at the sharp retort of her muscles.  
Her fingers pressed to her chin distractedly, as if to hold the mandible in place, as another expression, one of confusion filled her eyes. 

This must be a dream. 

Ulquiorra stepped closer, slipping his hands out of his pocket.  
"Did you hear what I said?" He softly asked. 

The tone was a caress.  
Poisonous as it was, it lulled her to slightly lower her guard. 

"I-Yes. I heard you..." Came Inoue's broken train of thought, coupled with a few disjointed blinks.  
And then she quickly remembered herself and projected every ounce of her earlier bitterness in a glare.  
"And you should be! You're beyond cruel! I would never have thought-"

"-Isn't it to be expected."  
He canted backwards, staring down at her.  
"That is the nature of a Hollow, after all." 

Her eyes widened and her lips pressed into a firm line.  
Inoue began to feel her cheeks flare as they tinted a healthy rose in shade.  
How could he simply phrase it that way!  
As if it justified his assault?  
Casually stating she should deal with it because that's how he was made?  
Cheap shot.  
That night he'd forcibly taken from her, he knew what he was taking, and he knew it would break her.  
It may not have physically hurt enough, but on the inside she felt almost irreparable, and she'd been that way for two more nights. 

He knew she was slowly letting him in.  
He hadn't even shown his face until today! 

And after everything...

"You're unbelievable." Inoue bitterly stated.  
"I apologize." He repeated flatly.  
She gave a lift of haughty eyebrows.  
He gave her a slow glower in return.  
"Do not make me repeat myself-"

"After all these days of our talks together!" Inoue stubbornly pressed on  
"-of us... us eating together, and you taking time off from your duties to stroll around with me, and showing me the Cuatro and Quinto sparring grounds, and all that advice about battle strategies, taking me to the balcony, the onigiri...and- not letting Nnoitra or Grimmjow even touch me ... and falling asleep together-"  
"- Stop." He lightly cut in.  
"And I was not asleep. I simply occupied your couch to rest whilst you took to your bed."

She blinked disbelievingly. 

"In all those times, you were never asleep?!"  
He turned to her patiently. "I never claimed to be. I was merely resting my eyes."  
"Resting your-..." She almost sputtered, bracing herself on her arms and arching her neck to glare harder into his unmoved eyes.  
And she was watching him!  
Was he aware of that too?  
Those moments of peaceful quiet and actually admiring him...  
Her face reddened.  
_This was a joke!_  
"Well, _do_ you really sleep?!"  
"Yes."  
"And do you really dream?"  
"Yes."  
"And you never take your Hollow helmet off?"  
"It cannot happen."  
"And you really don't like ice cream?"  
"It converts into a low spirit particle count when consumed. I prefer raw meat. Especially when livestock has been butchered at the very peak of terror."  
"Peanut butter?"  
"No."  
"You said it was 'good!'"  
"Never. I said it was 'preferable'. Woman-"  
"- And red bean paste? You really like it?"

Ulquiorra closed his eyes. 

"... No. Unfortunately, I find it disgusting."

An unexpected pang of hurt surged through her.  
"But you said..."  
Inoue rose on one knee, her chin dimpling with the beginnings of another sudden and ridiculous urge to cry.  
"You-... lied... to me..." Her voice broke with a helpless quiver.  
He gave a low scoff of breath.  
"Harmless fibs and only over irrelevant matters. You are being melodramatic."  
"And you are _not_ earning my trust! Not like this when you lie about the smallest, stupidest things."  
She quickly shot back, taking a deep quaking breath and reining in what little she could of her emotions and the dampness threatening to spill.

The silliest things were making her so angry.  
They were so insignificant, a child would laugh.  
But they grew like disturbing ripples, building with everything else and she was so sad that her brief fleeting moments of bliss could possibly have been mere farces.  
And she was just so mad!  
Inoue had no idea why someone who'd captured her was causing her so much strife, when she really shouldn't be caring.  
They were enemies after all. 

Her emotions were twisting violently and surging, and it must have something to do with not having _anything_ to do in this cold, dreary, immensely large and hollow prison tower.  
But her chest ached from the simple knowledge that somehow, she had been building what little friendship she'd culminated with him, with a peppering of half-truths and convenient lies.  
Was this really all that was? Was it really as bad as she was thinking?

When he listened as she told her his fears, even if it was a likely possibility that he could understand less than half of it because of how she'd all but hiccupped her words through her tears...  
Her worst fears.  
Of deaths.  
Of failures. 

"... My nightmares, do they really keep you awake?" She stiffly asked. 

"Yes..." He provided, eyebrows lowering - "I see no poi-"  
"- And I'm sorry for that, but you know what nightmares I have, and how much they affected me! And you just stood there with your words and your mouth and your hands, and used my helplessness against me." 

She pushed a fist at the couch, and his eyes widened a bare millimeter in observance to her sudden feral display. 

"You feel it don't you? You say it keeps you awake. And you didn't even try to understand exactly what you were messing with, talking about my friends like that, like they just don't care about my life, but they're doing this because they _do,_ Ulquiorra! Taking advantage of my... my willingness to trust you?! How could you do that to me!"  
"It was an opportunity. I simply preyed on your weakness for human affectio-"  
"-It is _not_ a weakness, you don't understand anything, Ulquiorra."

"Eat." Came the firm command, all tolerance for her lost. 

In the next second, Inoue felt the disabling crush of terrifying Reiatsu pressing down on her. It sunk its watery depths into her skin, flattening her spine and compressing her ribcage until her breaths rushed out and her lungs felt like damp sponges inhaling dark water. 

It was so swift, Inoue didn't have time to call out another insult.  
And for a moment she felt she would simply throw up brine if she opened her mouth.  
She lifted her chin, tightening her throat and stifling the urge.  
Fighting him off with her own vexed anger. 

Not like this, he wouldn't control her.  
Not after what he'd done. 

She steadied herself and dug deep, and she flung her own Reiatsu out around her as a bracing hold. 

"... I don't have an appetite-" Inoue finally managed with a fixed glare. 

"Shall I force it down your throat?" He leaned in with a malevolence reinforcing his icy tone.  
"Just like... you force everything else... Go ahead. - I... won't go down... easily this time."  
Inoue was almost whispering as the breaths squeezed out of her.  
Her hands shook against her sides, fighting the urge to brush away the crushing weight of his energy.  
And as he stared silent daggers at her, Inoue felt the air thinning, her inhales and exhales growing shorter, her vision slightly going white and speckled.  
She finally pitched, throwing an arm gracelessly over the couch to steady herself.  
Her eyes never left his face and continued on that seemingly endless staring match despite the blackness creeping in and her whole body struggling with heaves. 

Whatever he'd do to her, she would stand up to as much as she could.  
She wasn't going to be pushed around like this. Not when her humanity, the one thing she was so proud of upholding, was being ridiculed and strung along for his benefit. It was her final rebellion and it was for her beliefs and the beliefs of everyone fighting their way into Las Noches to save her. 

Inoue's eyes narrowed, and a squeezed sound of frustration came out of her.  
She wouldn't cry.  
Not now, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

And then just as she felt she was gonna pass out, the grip on her person slowly receded.  
She grabbed a long, delicious gulp of air and sprung back with a brace of her arms, pushing herself up with high gasps.  
Her hand cradled her throat as she took steady, ample breaths. Eyes peering out at him from under partings of dark auburn.  


Ulquiorra's jaw clenched and he slowly pushed up. 

"Why must you be so stubborn." He whispered, eyeing her with a trace of annoyance. 

Inoue thought she heard a sigh chasing that statement.  
And deceptive as it may have sounded, she was almost fooled into thinking he was relenting somehow. 

"Because I'm ... here against my will..." 

She took in another deep drag of breath, righting herself against the upholstery.  
"Even if you made it seem as if I had a choice. Someone like me... could never leave my friends for dead. And... I'm sure they would say the same if the tables were turned. It wasn't a choice. What you did to get my cooperation was a threat." 

She lifted her face slowly, strands of ginger falling across her cheeks, unaided. 

"If you were taken against your will, what would you do? Wouldn't you fight for what you thought was right... until the very end?"

Inoue watched him take a step next to the cart, wordlessly pushing it with one hand towards her.  
He sent her a sharp look as it creaked forward.  
"Answer me..." It came out more in a pleading tone she didn't like. 

"I would not have allowed my capture in the first place, and should the situation come to that, I would simply leave my comrades to fight and die if they were weak enough. I think rationally, about survival. I make decisions using my head. I do not 'feel' for what is right, woman. That would make no sense nor would it benefit me."

Her mouth slowly closed and she stopped at that, pulling away from him to gather her fists to her lap. 

"You don't give yourself a chance to feel anything, Ulquiorra." She finally said. 

"... I cannot feel." He reminded her with a lower whisper.  
"Well... I don't believe that." Inoue insisted fervently.  
"You say you're born from Nothing, but it doesn't mean you have to feel Nothing. If you exist and you evolve, it means you have the capability to move beyond that."

"You are telling me to go against my very nature." Ulquiorra pointed out slowly.  
"And if I were to do anything but what I've done, you're telling me to go against mine!" She finished incredulously.  
"... This is not about what you want." The Cuatro warned.  
"It's about what I want, as much as it's about what you and your Lord Aizen wants."  
Inoue quickly parried, gripping at a nearby pillow and pushing it down with emphasis.  
"My existence is _just_ as important as yours. And I refuse to be used. I wish you could see..." Her eyes lowered.  
She really did.  
She'd wanted for him to understand her so badly. 

"... And I thought, for a while, I could make you see..."  
Inoue finally confessed, looking sadly up at him, and only growing sadder still seeing the emptiness reflected back.  


Her hands balled into fists. 

"That golden bracelet..." She pushed herself up with renewed fervor. "We're connected somehow, aren't we? You said so. You know my heart exists, beyond whatever is in my chest, you _know_ I feel. _Strongly._ My distress, and my fear, and maybe my happiness. Can't you feel any of that?" Her gray eyes searched his. 

"That thing beats in your chest. That is all there is to it. And anything more is excess and illogical."

He leaned lower, pupils sharpening into fine slits.  
"I am not Human. And you cannot make me into one, no matter how much you insist on it with your endless spiels."

Inoue looked down, feeling more hurt at the crushing resolve of his denial.  
Even if she tried to convince him, he would only intercept her the moment she tried to reach out.

Ulquiorra's low voice broke the silence.  
"If you seem to think I disregard your worth..." His voice stilled.  
"- then you misunderstand me."  
Her eyes rose at that.  
The Cuatro met her gaze with one of tempered patience.  
Your abilities... Your existence... is beyond valuable."  
Inoue couldn't help the slight widening of her eyes.  
She hadn't expected that at all.  
"You are unique. And you seem not to realize it." He continued.  
Her heart gave a very sudden, and foreign squeeze at his words. And she felt an unstoppable blush taint her cheeks before she reminded herself that she needed to take him with a grain of salt.  
And then he surprised her with a break in his composure, if only to slide a leg onto the armrest of her couch in a half-seated manner.  
She blinked, watching him.  
The Cuatro lowered, bracing a pale hand lightly over one of his pantlegs before he shifted to a comfortable incline.  
Inoue pursed her lips, subdued by his revelation whilst trying not to ogle the natural grace he seemed to carry.  
She continued watching his face as those emerald orbs idly studied the wall from behind the partings of his raven strands.  
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to remember the silken feel of his hair. And then she'd sharply bitten her tongue to shake herself off it.  


"It is exactly the very reason why I protect you at all costs." His green eyes left the marble and looked her over with a sideways glance.  
"And it is precisely why under these circumstances, I will do what I must to force you to discard your foolishness so you may continue to live." He said in a harder tone, eyes narrowing.  
"But I'm not being foolish, Ulquiorra." She slowly shook her head, searching his face.  
"Obviously, I prefer to escape this whole thing unscathed with my friends, you know that.." Inoue lifted her shoulders.  
"But, what you're requesting of me puts them, my town, the whole of Soul Society and the human realm - People who are important to _me_ in danger. And..."  
Her gray eyes lowered, idly watching her fingers trace at the tray table.  


"I'm sorry..."  
She cringed when he looked away from her umpteenth apology.  


"If I need to risk my life to possibly save them..." She exhaled a light, almost embarrassed laugh.  
"That's an easy yes for someone like me."  
"Therein lies your foolishness." He blatantly stated.  
"You contradict yourself, and hold your life below those of your friends."  
"You're wrong." Inoue whispered with a small smile.  
His eyebrows lowered at her frank dismissal.  
"It's just I already know because we all share the same wishes and bonds, that they would equally do the same. None of us are above the other."  
She fixed her hands into her lap and gave him a meaningful look.  
Ulquiorra stared at her for longer than a moment, and then there was a sound of a quiet exhale from him as he closed his eyes and rose.  
"Blind faith..." He started, before those slit pupils swept over her. "-is not something I would rely on."  


There was a brief silence.  
"Only that same principle applies when I'm relying on you."  
She sat with her eyebrows raised in expectance.  
"You contradict yourself." She poked at the air with a small grin.  
For the first time, the Cuatro gave a detached blink of realization, completely at a loss for words. And then he moved to a full stand.  
"You have a point." He flatly admitted. Inoue internally claimed the victory with much satisfaction, and she settled back into the couch.  


Her gaze wandered down to her main course of pickled radish and beef.  
He'd taken a bite of the pickled radish with pork last time...  
She sighed internally, slightly dampened.  


Could she ever still offer to eat with him?  
Why was it that she still wanted to?  
They could never come to terms, they were just too different. 

But it wasn't as if Ulquiorra wanted to be born that way.  
And if someone had been born without feeling anything, and surviving all those hundreds of years under those principles, all the while becoming strong enough to join Aizen's ranks... then it only made sense that he relied on that formula.  
It was the only thing he knew that worked for him.  
He was a survivor, a living testament to its effectiveness. 

Humans did make a lot of irrational, emotional choices, but she always believed that better choices could come out because of it.  
Ulquiorra never had a chance to see that, because he lived in a world where power meant survival. It meant cutting off weakness and abandoning those who impeded, not sacrifice yourself and your time to help them. 

There was no place for ailing creatures in Aizen's army.  
And as she slowly grew to understand that, she could no longer really blame him. 

He was alone and had been alone.  
He had no attachments, no bonds.  
Hearing his talk of abandoning his comrades and leaving them to die, was all her proof of that. 

Her heart began to gentle at the realization as the exhaustion of her waning anger settled.  
Even more so because Inoue knew what it was like, even if it was mere blip compared to his life, a handful of years she could count with a mere two hands.  
And she was privileged, to live in a warm world that offered second chances and happy endings.  
While he was forcibly born into one that was merciless, ruthless, soul-less...  
Heartless.  
"Are you purposely testing my patience, woman?"  
Inoue looked into his reptilian stare.  
It had once again hardened to its default callousness.  
She felt a twinge of sadness, then, and her eyes dimmed until all she could do was send a downward gaze to the floor. 

"Eat, or I will force it down your throat. This is not a game." There was a careful control over that tone, but Inoue knew simply from hearing it, that his composure wouldn't last for long if she continued. 

"Alright." She finally relented. 

Strangely, releasing all that anger had made her feel a little better.  
Almost enough that she could actually spare a few bites, sparse as it was, she could manage to possibly stomach it.  
Maybe if she threw it up, she'd get the satisfaction of seeing him clean it.  
Perhaps, that was too cruel.  
And he had apologized after all. Twice.  
That was something she'd never expected to hear.  
Perhaps, it was enough.  
She was thankful, at least, that he had that unlimited tank of patience.  
Anyone else might not have let her get a single smart-mouthed objection out before beating her bloody. 

"I'll eat. If it spares you from Aizen's wrath." She finally conceded kindly.  
"Lord Aizen." He quickly corrected. 

Inoue gave an exhale of breath and took the spoon, starting on the safest of her three meals.  
Miso soup.  
It even had bits of silken tofu and wakame seaweed in it.  
Surprisingly without much effort, her mouth lifted, albeit a little grimly.  
She fished for a white cube and held it up to her lips.  
Tasting the umami over the tip of her tongue. 

"... Warmth." 

She raised her gray eyes.  
"What?"

Ulquiorra was staring out the bars of her cell, his emerald gaze casted somewhere far off into the dark, even if there wasn't much to see, Inoue knew. 

"You asked if I could feel anything."  
He pocketed a hand and slightly leaned back as he removed his stare from the bars and directed those unflinching eyes at her. 

"Your warmth." He finally said. 

The spoon brimming with dashi stock lingered in the air.  
Inoue lowered it by half an inch along with her shoulders, and his eyes immediately narrowed, focusing on the trickle now beginning to make a mess on the tray.  
She quickly pushed the utensil into her mouth, trying to swallow the tofu slice along with the sudden thumps threatening to push up her throat. 

A sudden brim of happiness, much too momentous for such a few string of words seized her chest. 

He looked away just as she began to smile, the traces of light already beginning to return to her eyes.  
"... I am." She said after a brief clearing of her throat.  
"All of 36.8 degrees celcius in warmth."

"I doubt that." Ulquiorra murmured.  
"Kissing you reveals otherwise."

Inoue almost dropped her spoon into the miso.  
She quickly grasped the handle and pulled it away, snatching her wide eyes up to his.  
He merely looked back with silent perusal.  
Inoue blanched at that look... and then felt that 'otherwise' begin to manifest, sending her neck and cheeks flaring.  
"And I suppose you're an accurate thermometer." She vaguely deadpanned, trying to brush her embarrassment away.  
"Passable. I observe your Reiatsu, which is essentially broken down into particles of heat within energy."  
He gave her a sweeping look, as if assessing her again in the moment to confirm it.  
"Within ten inches of space between your face and mine, its composition changes... drastically."

Her mouth pressed with a dimpled frown and she huffed, feeling the heat clinging to her ears like iron brands. 

"Well,.. apparently, i-... it happens, when these things... happen." She dumbly balked.  
Inoue attempted another spoonful of soup, despite a newfound jittering making it near impossible not to send the stock into her dress. 

"Did you enjoy it?"

If possible, Inoue's face had turned an even more vivid red at his blatant inquiry.  
Her tongue grew heavy, and her throat was closing up, preventing any sort of response that wasn't gonna come out stupid or garbled or both.  
Eating at all was proving difficult. 

"I-...I don't... even know how to answer that." She managed after some time.  
"A simple yes or no will suffice."

"I, Well... There was a... certain point, I-... Just in general, no!" She stuttered and then pushed up defiantly.  
"You forced me!"  
Another valiant attempt with a much-too-high squeak.  
And then she clamped her mouth shut, withering away from his avid stare. 

For a moment it seemed her over-active mind was feeding her the wrong information, and Inoue could blame the over-all darkness of her Quarters, but it seemed as if Ulquiorra was slightly taken aback.  
His sharp eyes roamed her face, trying to dismantle her half-truth. 

"I distinctly recall a response-"  
"Please, stop!" Inoue bleated, her voice a soaring squeeze of soprano.  
"Why do you even want to know!"  
Her heart was hammering away, much too hard in her chest.  
And a mortified glance at his unabashed observance told her that he could feel every intimate pulse of it in him. 

His eyebrows lifted subtly.  
And it appeared, for a moment as his mouth parted, that he wanted to say more... or even provide an answer.  
But just as quickly, the moment was gone as Ulquiorra's face lifted ever so slightly. He angled away as if some invisible presence had decidedly leaned in and whispered something into his ear.  
Inoue watched the look in his eyes as the gears immediately shifted.  
A far-off stare and then a slow sideways slink of those emerald eyes, and he was steadily pulling away from her. 

"U... Ulquiorra?" She whispered.  
Her voice dwindled away and she straightened as what felt like a slight static began ghosting up her arms.  
It was small, but Inoue wasn't new to it. 

Ulquiorra side-stepped the rug and turned his back to her, heading for the door.  
"Finish your food. I will return in an hour." He instructed without looking back. 

And then he'd walked out, closing the door behind him.  
Only... not before another feeling had slunk in to replace his presence. 

Inoue sat there, feeling the beats in her chest pick up where they left off.  
It was a different kind of frantic traipse that could not be called good at all.  
And for a moment, she became very still as every fiber of her was latched on to by a familiar presence before her soul was tugged sharply outwards.  
A cold precipice filled the void in her chest, squeezing a startled gasp from her lungs.  
And she really did drop her spoon this time, her body assaulted by a limpness that caused her to push off the couch with shaking knees and pool into a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Her fingers tightened over the upholstery, her eyes widening as she felt the familiar touches of Kuchiki Rukia's Reiatsu.  
It circled around her, as if in a warm, reassuring embrace, and then just as quickly it seemed to be dissipating, draining from her body, evaporating and leaving her. 

Leaving... 

The dread spiraled through her stomach until she felt she wouldn't be able to eat at all.  
And then another assault came in the form of a startling coldness that had settled into her chest, like a blade slicing right into her.  
Her fingers grew icy, too quickly for anything natural, as if the blood were leaving her appendages. 

And she knew. 

"Kuchiki-...san..."  
Her shaking fingers finding their way up to her lips as she spoke her friend's name.  
And then her eyes had blurred with tears at the ache in her heart because she knew. 

"No... Please, no..."

Kuchiki Rukia was dying. 

 

\---

Ulquiorra never did find out exactly how much she'd eaten, and they never did meet in her room again.  
The next few minutes and hours would build into a crescendo.  
The Cuatro would intercept Kurosaki Ichigo on the stairs below Lord Aizen's main tower.  
He would taunt him and confess to Inoue's kidnapping, only to plunge his hand into the boy's chest moments later - leaving the woman's savior broken and dying. 

"Weak." The Cuatro deadpanned.  
"I overestimated you." 

With such an effortless defeat, he'd decided there was no existence of bonds, or hearts that inevitably linked and made each other stronger.  
It was all part of the woman's woven tale to comfort herself in her capture. 

Something in him wanted to leave Kurosaki Ichigo alive. 

He wanted to return to the woman's room to tell her about it.  
He wanted to prove the worthlessness of her 'heart.'  
He wanted to see that radiant humanity of hers crumbling apart before his eyes. 

And then he realized, he had left Kurosaki Ichigo alive because he wanted to give her what she'd fought for: A choice. 

What would she do? He wondered.  
Where did her loyalties stand, now that they were put to the test?

-

Inoue would experience her first real attack from two female Arrancar without Ulquiorra to defend her.  
Loly and Menoly came at her without holding back.  
And though she stayed right where she was if she were to get into trouble - just as the Cuatro commanded on her first few days - he didn't come after all.  
It was the first time he'd failed to protect her. 

Another Espada arrived in his stead.  
And, soon Grimmjow had brought her straight to her dying friend with a rough toss to the rubble.  
And then she saw him for the first time in weeks.  
The first love of her life.  
Only to learn he'd been attacked by her first enemy protector. 

It was a strange combination of that familiar sadness and hurt following a Betrayal only Ulquiorra could initiate, and a resilient need to fight for what she'd always believed.  
Ichigo would survive, because he represented her beliefs and her hopes.  
He was the harbinger of human victory, and the epitome of her heart before Hueco Mundo. 

Whether by coincidence, or serendipity - she was reunited with him now.  
And she could save him.  
She brushed aside her nightmares, and at the promptings of the Sexta, she erected her shield and began to heal him. 

But it would get worse.  
A bubbling conflict of emotions splitting her heart into two separate entities. 

An unexplainable feeling of guilt and terror came over her, when she finally saw Ulquiorra standing over the rubble behind Grimmjow's startled icy stare.  
She was defying him, and it was every bit what she knew was the right thing to do. 

Only... why was she hurting?

The girl she'd left behind from Karakura waged an internal battle with the girl who'd walked the halls of Hueco Mundo. 

His lithe frame and face were shadowed by the glare of the artificial light from outside as he calmly watched her work her negation.  
She was almost grateful for the slight visual censure, not wanting to see his caustic expression. And she found herself curling in slightly, as if she wanted to hide from his chastising glare. 

Ulquiorra stated that he couldn't care less for the boy.  
But that he would take her back because she was under his care.  
A small sliver of meekness came over her and she almost straightened.  
Alas, her humanity was insistent. 

There was only enough of a pause the Cuatro left - waiting for her decision.  
His green eyes looked at her, dissecting her every flinch and quiver, until her blatant fixedness won and he turned away, denied. 

Inoue's heart began to tear itself apart to properly nurse her conflict. 

-

It was only much later that they'd met again in the hallways of the throne room.  
He'd been sent to another dimension as he fought the Sexta, but he'd finally found his way back.  
Inoue knew it was wrong to be relieved about it.  
But there was no changing the fact that she was. 

Seeing him standing there, in his issued white uniform, tattered from a weary struggle avoiding the shredding claws of space and time, he'd finally broken the silence: 

"What is a heart?" In the calm, inquiring demeanor he always held in check.  
As if he hadn't heard her many varying explanations of it.  
"If I tear at your chest, if I crack open your skull... will I see it?"  
As if he didn't already know the answer.  
It was a mockery.  
A statement he declared to tell her it didn't exist.  
But he waited patiently, and listened regardless. 

As if he entertained the possibility he would understand her.  
It was a familiar thing.  
It was how they learned each other. 

Ulquiorra had his questions.  
What was so important about this concept, that she was now betraying him?  
Why couldn't she simply hand it to him, so he could crush it in his palm and get rid of it?  
His eyes spoke volumes. 

_Do I not have your trust?_

-

And then Kurosaki Ichigo had come, bursting through the fortress wall, sending boulders of marble hurtling.  
And the Cuatro decided it was as good a chance as any to slay whatever ridiculous beliefs this woman held, right in that moment, before her very eyes.  
He would give her a demonstration of crushing what he could see of this 'heart.'

"I'm starting to perceive your movements better. Could it be that I'm becoming more like a Hollow...? Or could it be that you're becoming more human?"  
Ichigo taunted during their exchange of swords. 

The palpable disgust was in Ulquiorra's eyes, Inoue saw. 

And as Loly and Menoly seized her to continue their interrupted assault,  
she found the Cuatro's eyes looking to her, monitoring the extent of her punishment.  
Perhaps, he had wanted it.  
She could see that he was allowing it. 

Everything changed when Ichigo aimed that Getsuga Tenshou blindly in her direction because Inoue watched as Ulquiorra broke away from his opponent, surging towards her.  
Before she could blink, he'd deflected the attack, swiping a palm up and sending the jagged, black brunt hurtling into the ceilings. 

And she remembered all the times he'd hurt her, though he never truly did. 

"Do not misunderstand. I was not helping you."  
Ulquiorra addressed the two female Arrancars.  
And then he'd turned to her in his brief stare, as if to make a point. 

_One more chance, woman._

She saw her own reflection captured in those clear, attentive eyes before the reverie was broken by his opponent's sword launching him back into another combination of swift exchanges. 

Kurosaki Ichigo slammed into him with another cry and they parried across the floor faster than her eyes could track. 

Ulquiorra gained an advantage and struck out at the Substitute Shinigami, once, sending him backwards.  
He disappeared in a burst of sonido and assaulted from the side with a twist of his torso and leg.  
"I don't think so!" The boy turned with a shout and caught the blade as it sliced.  
That ample pause was the opening he was looking for.  
The Cuatro swivelled sharply, swinging his sword down with blinding speed and weight towards the boy's vulnerable back -- only to collide with the force of that glimmering shield.  
Hers.  
Radiating with the very same hues of yellow that warmed him. 

And Inoue would always remember how one emerald eye narrowed at her with a menacing look over his shoulder.  
The way his breath had hitched almost imperceptibly in his throat as a true response to a Betrayal she had now turned on him.  
The way his sword visibly stilled, before he decidedly smashed into her shield's surface with a set jaw, causing a sharp, splintering concussion. 

That strike had shattered more than a shield.  
It had shattered everything between them.  
The pain lanced through her.  
And a semblance of anger surprisingly touched at him. 

He straightened.  
He looked at her and her heart squeezed feebly into the confines of her throat.  
"Why did you not protect him from the first attack?"  
The Cuatro's startlingly calm question parted her like a knife. 

Ichigo rolled to a stand. 

Those green eyes narrowed, paying him no mind.  
"Why did you hesitate?" He asked again.  
Inoue struggled to answer.  
Her heart whimpered with conflict. 

And then Ulquiorra had cut in.  
"Let me tell you why. It is because you-"

"-Shut up!" Ichigo roared, dashing forward with another Getsuga Tenshou.

_... You belong to us._

Inoue's body quaked and she suppressed a shaking sob.  
Loly was ripping off her sleeve, and she was screaming. 

"Inoue!" Came the cry of her first love.  
And as he took a step forward, Ulquiorra met him with a block.  
She lifted her frantic eyes, meeting with a fierce green one. 

_... You belong with me._

-

They shot straight up the pillars, making a dent into the sky.  
She'd wanted to see the battle, so she surged up with the Archer on his Reishi platform and it was there above the ceiling of Las Noches, that everything came to grave fruition. 

It seemed he was still waiting.  
If only to prove her denial to his offers brought painful consequences. 

And he would show her. 

As she leapt forward with a stumbling run towards him, Ulquiorra's eerie yellow stare fastened on her panicked gray eyes from meters above the ground. 

"So, you decided to come."

He was terrifying, surging with suppressed agility in those long limbs and claws.  
His wings pushed out with a flourishing stretch behind him like two majestic canopies.  
A display of what he truly was: A Hollow. 

A tragedy, that spoke clearly of just how different their worlds were. 

Heavy, was the brunt of his totality.  
Like a cold ocean pressing down on her from the sky.  
While she shone brilliantly in a radiant, warm weightlessness that was every bit opposed. 

In his whip-like tail he strangled her first love.  
And as he held his choking body up as if it were all the weight of paper, he pointed a black talon slowly into the center of his heaving chest. 

Inoue knew, and her screams had come before she was even aware of the words.  
He would shatter her very beliefs and prove his point. 

"Watch closely." Ulquiorra's stare pressed down with severity.  
"The man you have placed all your hopes on is about to die."

And as her shrill cries pierced the sky, as she begged with rising trepidation and garbled utterances throwing herself forward until her voice had cracked and her dress had torn at the slits snagging on boulders, that green beam finally shot out, thicker than a Las Noches pillar.  
Slicing into the horizontal space that occupied everything within, and behind Kurosaki Ichigo's chest. 

She stilled and all her breath left her.  
And for a moment she felt her world end because her chest folded in and it was the most painful thing she'd ever known. 

_That... is your Heart._

Ulquiorra released the broken body and watched it fall.  
Specks of crimson flew out from the upwind, raining into his skin and fur. 

And he was convinced, because his own eyes bore testimony: 

That the boy was very clearly dead, taking that incessant woman's ridiculous notions with him. 

-

Only, he discovered later - it was not quite so simple to get rid of such a thing after all. 

A fervent prayer that exposed her humanity enough that Ulquiorra paused in vague interest.  
He watched the woman cry, and beg and plead with all the burning, raw beats of that broken thing in her chest.  
"Help us, Kurosaki-kun. Please, help us!"  
He felt her pain as it seized his neck, choking him.  
Those beats clamored for relief, breaking into his eardrums.  
And he struggled to breathe, narrowing his eyes at her persistence. 

She was resilient.  
And he was right to think she possessed strong will, however misguided. 

It was absurd.  
And the absurd soon gave birth to a miracle. 

There were things his eyes could see.  
And then there was the impossible. 

The boy rose.  
No.  
It was no longer him. 

-

Ulquiorra's head smashed into the ground.  
And he stared out at the expanse of dark sky as it grew brilliantly red before the whole bulk of it seemed to strike him bearing the very fabrics of Space.  
Kurosaki Ichigo's Gran Rey Cero thundered down over his Segunda Etapa Hierro until his bones snapped and his lungs collapsed.  
And it seared everything below his chest

It was an irony.  
He thought, as the boy raised whatever was left of him by one wing, eyeing the trail of an unrecognizable rope of intestine slithering along the fissure, before tossing him like a pebble.  
To possibly die by the hands of a creature that possessed something he didn't believe in. 

He landed, unaware.  
Fading in and out of consciousness...  
Barely able to draw dampened breaths from burnt lungs that shrivelled into charred wisps splayed over a splintered and incomplete ribcage.  
He was surprised to still be alive.  
The notion of 'hurting' had never truly been incapacitating to him...  
But, as it was now, everything was hurting.  
Immensely. A pain he had never known.  
His vision wavered between startlingly bright and complete dark as the muscles of his pupils struggled to function.  
He gave an involuntary lurch then, and closed his eyes as he retched with an esophageal ejection of blood, bubbling into his mouth like burning acid.  
It trickled over the side of his frown to drip into the rubble.  
And then he vaguely heard the steps of the boy rumbling closer, plodding like a mindless zombie, but nonetheless purposeful in its endeavor.  
The sound of a sword crunching into its owner's oppressive grip and Ulquiorra surrendered, even as the tips of his burnt skin began to darken and fuse, stitching him back with slow precision over the ashen remains of a crumbling stomach and everything that no longer existed below it.  
He released a sound as his spine snapped together, jerking his Hollow hole up, as if in offer.  
And the sword slowly inched down to meet it.  


"That's enough, Kurosaki..." Came the low voice of the Quincy, who's forearm he'd snapped effortlessly in two.  
To want to stop the boy... How ridiculous.  
Humans.  


"He was our enemy, but there's no need to carve up his corpse..." A strangely morose voice.  
Compassion.  
For him.  
Why.  
A startling curiosity tugged at his alertness.  


"That's enough, Kurosaki!" The voice grew frantic.  
Fighting to preserve the enemy's honor.  
Why.  
Humans... are so irrational.  


At the unmistakable sound of a sword meeting flesh and the jerk of the Archer's pained cry, Ulquiorra's eyes flew open, focused on the one above him.  
But the boy had his sights set elsewhere.  
The woman screamed the Quincy's name and the Cuatro's fingers lifted instinctively hearing its distress.  
Why.  
Hipbones reformed under superficial skin, snapping to one molded thigh socket.  


And then, the boy, the creature that had become him, spoke.  
"Will... Save..." It droned in low vibration.  


The Cuatro's eyes widened at the fully coherent rumble of words.  
Ones the woman had only wished for.  
Those impossible words...  


She had managed to make them a reality.  


"Will save..."  


It continued to chant. "I will save..."  
Ulquiorra's stomach reformed with a bulk of new muscles.  


"I will save you."  


And then the creature was gathering that Cero between his horns.  
He lowered his head, enough that the trajectory would incinerate everything in front of him, including that woman.  
She cried out, begging again, completely frightened.  
Until Ulquiorra realized something that turned the tables so late into the battle...  


The woman was _afraid_ of Kurosaki Ichigo.  


_'Save' her? Fool..._  


Ulquiorra began to move.  
He raised himself against the deep plumes of smoke threatening to saturate the little air he managed to process.  
Spread his wings and flapped to balance on a one-legged stand.  
He reformed a green spear into his working hand and pushed up, shooting into the cloud.  


_If there is anything I understand, it is Protecting that woman._  


And then he had sliced through that horn,  
\- Causing the Cero to roll out of control and explode right over that boy's foolish head, sending more pebbles and erosions of rock flying out towards Las Noches' rooftop and over the stretching desert sands.  
Seeing her face again, he realized that perhaps he had impulsively played a part in her little cosmic arrangement.  
The creature's skull fractured and then shattered like a ceramic jug.  
It held the same pallid death he had caused.  


No matter...  
He landed with a stagger, faint from the effort.  
... It no longer mattered.  
Everything his regeneration had done was superficial.  
His organs were lost.  
If his body ailed this way, he had no purpose in the coming war and he would never see this new world his Lord so ardently spoke of.  
He would never grasp what he was looking for.  


... It really was an irony.  
Ulquiorra reached out to her.  
... That he was now so interested in the creatures he once abhorred.  
And he watched those tears she had refused to shed earlier now brimming for him. 

Her heart was beating hard into his mind.  
And whatever was left of him struggled to discern why. 

"Are you afraid of me, woman?" He whispered.  
He'd done everything to antagonize her, to hurt her beyond repair.  
There was no reason now that she wouldn't be.  
If there was any trust he'd managed to get in all the days he'd worked for it.  
It was entirely reasonable that he'd lost all of that. 

"No..." 

His eyes widened, clearly caught again by her irrationality.  
"I'm not afraid. I'm not." She answered back with a choked sob. 

And then...  
She reached out for him. 

His eyes stilled, and then a foreign expression filled their emerald depths. 

_I will not hurt you._  
_I will protect you._  
_I will come for you, should you need me to defend you._  
_Do you believe me? Still?_

_Do I have your trust?_

"I'm not afraid..."  
Her tears fell. 

_Why..._  
.  
.  
_Because Ulquiorra will not hurt me._

Her fingers snagged at his ashes, clenching at the heat in the air.  
And Ulquiorra felt his consciousness fading with the final thought that she had found it in her heart to trust him. 

Her heart.  
Something in him stirred, looking at her.  


An irony.  
He watched her until everything faded to black. 

... For a Hollow to die understanding humanity. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> So this concludes my personal take on the Hueco Mundo arc.  
> Starting from this point on, we will focus on real time. 
> 
> Also Inoue needed more of a backbone in this one, so I tried to give her one.  
> Not entirely Inoue-ccentric, but there's definitely more of her. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. :3  
> Thank you for reading.  
> Comments are always, always welcome.  
> And if you can Kudos is appreciated because it helps with this story's exposure. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you!
> 
> And as always, till the next update!
> 
> \- Second_Best


	15. Inoue's Inner Consciousness: Ulquiorra's Desert

**Just for the record, the weather today is partly suspicious with chances of betrayal. – Chuck Palahniuk**

\------

.  
.  
.

The desert sands were like frigid mud sinking her bare feet.

Inoue shivered as her mind distractedly noted the steep plunge in temperature all around her.  
She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around her torn sleeves as the wind gave another jarring shove, pummeling through her dress.  
Her gray eyes never wavered and she jerked her face, distractedly pushing back the ginger strands obscuring her vision from her work. 

This kind of cold seemed to penetrate her bones.  
It plunged all the way into her core, taking advantage of the space her energy vacated as the bright shield tethered all her warmth into the confines of the pod that stretched over the Hollow's waif body.

She looked him over, almost tenderly, a possessiveness enveloping her consciousness as she slowly nursed him. 

After Ulquiorra had curled into her, refusing to let go, the cracks had started.  
And as they did, his eyes fell closed and hadn't opened again.  
She found herself holding on to him instead when his clawed arms began to lower, finally going limp against her sides as he slumbered on her shoulders.  
It was as if the act of cracking that mask open sent him into a state of hibernation.  
She had never seen him so vulnerable or open, so weak. 

Her muscles became impedingly sore after such a span of time supporting him that she eventually whispered an apology for it and untangled herself from his spindly limbs, gently easing him into the sand while she focused the shield over his whole form. 

Another coin-sized chip broke off from the stump where one majestic horn once stretched.  
It was a painstakingly slow process, but it was still happening all the same. 

That Hollow exterior was weakening. 

Almost a fourth of the face she was all-too familiar with was now serenely peeking out at her from behind the crumble of bone, a spill of soft raven strands cradling his temples and sticking out like tufts between the gaps. 

Her heart gave a small squeeze and despite her weariness, she found herself breaking into a smile. 

-

If there was a single bone in Inoue Orihime that could truly hate, she would have long despised Ulquiorra.  
She would have loathed him to the depths of her soul for killing the one boy who had restored her heart and her broken faith in humanity. 

Her stay in Las Noches had been nothing compared to that battle that took place atop it.  
He'd twisted her insides with his merciless hands and clawed her heart into tattered ribbons.  
And then he'd held on to one of those fragile, threadbare wisps.  
In his eyes, Inoue saw that familiar melancholy, but those green depths soon filled with something else.  
A foreign look. One she had never seen in all her weeks of captivity.  
It held an almost humble fervor as he whispered his poignant words.  


"I see... Now I understand..." His voice was a bare trace of breath, steadily dissipating.  
"Just when I was beginning to become interested..." The ghosting murmur brushed along her mind.

And she realized, with a troubled feeling sinking into her stomach, that despite what he'd done...  
That final, but fleeting expression on his face, those unfinished words, pushed her gears completely into reverse. 

Just like when he had given her that kiss in the dark, and mocked her humanity... and finally apologized.  
Everything crumbled, and he gave that final pull, urging her to blindly follow. 

She couldn't hate him after all. 

After this encounter, seeing him in such a reverted, pitiful state...  
Feeling everything that he held inside him before he'd become the terrifying Espada she first met.  
She couldn't find it in her heart, in her soul, to even be angry anymore.

Her inability to see him as an enemy, one of Aizen's most favored soldiers who willingly served as a step towards the Shinigami's quest to conquer...  
It was undoubtedly disturbing. 

But Inoue was forgiving to a fault.  
Her heart was tolerant and empathic and she'd always chosen to look upon the bright fondness of a memory,  
A happy encounter,  
A person's innate goodness over any and all imposing scars of wickedness that marred her. 

And so, there were only two things she deliberately chose to take away from her whole experience with Ulquiorra: 

The first thing, was assuring herself that her existence and her power were invaluable.  
That she was unique.  
He told her this without batting an eye on that fateful day, before everything fell apart and the war truly started. 

And even before that, Ulquiorra had explained it to her thoroughly, the way no one ever did, on the day he agreed to show her where he trained. 

\---

.

.

.

They were circling the dirt of the Cuatro Sparring Grounds - Inoue, crouched slightly with her hands suspended in guard, and Ulquiorra, straight-spined with hands pocketed, matching her at a corresponding distance. 

He moved one way, she moved the other. 

A harsh gust sent sand into her eyes, and she pressed at her hairclips to keep them fixed.  
He struck then like a snake, blindingly fast.  
It resulted in a harsh tap to the socket of her shoulder, sending her gasping with a sideways stumble at the brunt.  


She eyed him, almost ruefully. 

"You died." He said, turning and walking back to position.  
"Again." A cold command. 

She fixed her legs and planted them, tensing in concentration. 

They relapsed like it was a dance, looking at each other.  
A playful spar with a humiliating one-sided victory she was not enjoying, but found she was welcoming nonetheless. 

"I try... But you're just too fast."  
She hated the whine that came out of her, and the look he sent back showed equal intolerance for it.

"I assure you, my speed has been downplayed to a level you can read."

Ulquiorra's monotone made the statement seem more informative than anything sprung from arrogance. 

"Well," Inoue straightened with a frown.  
"I'm not sure my power can counter against your speed... My reaction time is horrible. And the 8th Espada did say my attacks and defense didn't work as efficiently as my healing shield..." Her face lowered, this time hating the way she seemed to naturally belittle herself. 

"It is all based on the same principle. And that is not an excuse if you wish to be able to protect yourself against the rest of the Espada's assaults." He countered.

She fell quiet then, and gave an apologetic nod, willing away her disheartening attitude.

"I'm sorry. I... I want to make your job a little easier." She insisted.

Ulquiorra lingered, eyeing the spaces around her in a way that made her imagine what she must look like to him. 

Maybe, he saw her like some video game character, with visual statistics popping out of her sides and readings of percentages that told him how much muscle mass she had and where her weight was distributed.  
Little arrows that blinked 'caution' when she was meaning to attack and pinpointing her like a target when she moved... 

_Did he see things like that? ___

...

"Time and space..." He suddenly broke through her ludicrous thoughts, sending her back with a few blinks, before she could ask.  
The desert wind stirred at his dark locks, feathered tips brushing over the cusp of his dark upper lip.  
That vivid green stare shone with the harshness of artificial sun as it came to rest on her face. 

"Temporality and Spatiality, and the ability to control the properties of these intertwined aspects..."

He walked along the flattened stretch of the open field, studying the chalked line in the dirt and unconsciously moving parallel to it. 

She sensed a temporary ceasefire and relaxed minutely. 

"An ability, perhaps, to force time's course backwards and manipulate matter... " He continued lightly.  
Inoue squinted against the harsh midday rays as she followed his form, turning slightly on her toes in case he pulled another surprise attack on her. 

He settled to a stop and raised his face. 

"That is what I filed in my primary report. But it is not an accurate explanation of what you possess." Came the subtly stressed conclusion. 

She twisted her mouth, confused.  
"I do work with Time and Space..." She insisted vibrantly, enjoying the pardoned exchange.  
"In the case of my healing... If I restore something that is currently gone, with something that was previously there, isn't that just..."  
Her shoulders gave a lift. "- Just restoring a previous time and a previous space?"

"Do you not fully grasp the words you utter to call your power." Ulquiorra pointedly said more than asked.

"...Well." Inoue flinched, clearly offended.  
"It's a _rejection_ of the current state, and so, it's a restoration of the previous state." She meaningfully explained. 

"To restore a certain time and space, you would have to reverse time... and space would logically follow. That is the natural order of a constantly expanding universe. There would have been visible proof for this reversal while your technique was happening."  
His slit pupils studied her closely.  
Inoue shifted consciously under his stare, feeling like a measly germ under a microscope trying to grasp what he was telling her.  
"Isn't there?" She faltered.  
"Not in what I've seen of your 'healing.'" He leaned in minutely with emphasis.

"But I thought that was how it worked..." Inoue said, taken aback.  
"No. That is a child's parlor trick and an insult to yourself." He flatly stated.  
Inoue blinked and her eyebrows rose, vaguely distinguishing the Cuatro's statement as a compliment.

"You're saying I can do more with my Souten Kisshun...?" She whispered, intrigued. 

Ulquiorra stared before his eyelids dropped a quarter of a millimeter and he expelled a soft exhale through his nose. 

_Was that a hint of exasperation?_  
Inoue gaped seeing the new expression on him, trying not to be so blatantly affected. 

Sometimes, he made her seem like such an idiot.  
She cringed and ejected a sigh of her own. 

"It is not Reversal, woman. It is Negation. Have your supposed friends taught you nothing of what that means."  
His tone was mildly condescending as it dropped with his last few words.  
"... That was uncalled for." Inoue frowned irately.  
"Reversing implies that there would have to be a sequence to your 'healing'..." He continued, unminding.  
"In the Sixth Espada's case, the incineration of the arm began on the outside, working its way in. A true Reversal of time and space would start at the point of amputation. With a sequential reformation of bones, followed by muscles, followed by skin... But do you notice that you work with no such order?"

"Well..." Inoue's face scrunched as she processed his steady explanation. 

She did recall skin closing over separate areas throughout Grimmjow's forearm. Muscles were forming afloat non-existent flesh... and bones were even suspended between spaces awaiting their attachments. 

Everything happened all at once, but she'd never been in a position of leisure to study it.  
Not during an actual attack on her friends or herself, and not under such pressure in a throne room filled with enemies.

Only, now that the Cuatro pointed the oddness out, it certainly didn't _seem_ like a proper 'reversing' sequence after all...

"I... suppose so." She whispered, suddenly lost in struck thought. 

"Negation. To cancel and oppose the outcome of something that has happened, whatever that may be. It is not bringing back a past time, it is denying the moment ever occured. How does not matter."  
Ulquiorra softly said, his eyes looking her over with an almost careful vigilance. 

Inoue thumbed at her lip and gave a small nod, glancing at him.  
There didn't seem to be a methodical explanation, it simply was.  
And Ulquiorra was only telling her what it _wasn't,_ in a way she had never thought about before.

"You're saying this defies logic. Something impossible, if it weren't for the Hogyoku's power to grant whatever someone desires most..." She whispered. 

"Correct."  
Those sharp pupils roamed her face before landing, fixed, between her collar.  
"To then speculate, the true potential of your power..."  


Her chest stilled as those thin slits in his eyes lowered, tracing along the juts of her bones, as if he were in keen, almost intimate, study.

"It is to deny something that exists... Or to bring back something that no longer does." Came the velvet murmur.  
"How far it develops is something only you will know."  
For a moment, he simply stood there.  
Inoue found herself tracing the shards of pine dividing the facets of his bright eyes, visible even from this distance in this startling light.  
He gave her an equally avid stare, giving nothing away.  


And then, a white blur had replaced it.  
Ulquiorra pushed at the sternum he'd been eyeing.  
Inoue almost choked on a gasp, visibly jumping at the shove of that forefinger and his figure now directly in front of her face. 

She hadn't even noticed his arm leaving his side.  
And she was too busy trying to grasp how grand this idea of her Negation really was.  
... Among other things.  
Her face reddened without her really pondering why.  


Ulquiorra lingered with a narrowed stare, letting her mistake seep in.  
And then he stepped away and resumed walking. 

"Easily distracted." He observed.  
"... Again." Those eyes closed. 

She gawked then. 

"... That wasn't fair! Enemies don't talk and look at you like that during battle!?" Inoue declared with a huff.  
Ulquiorra cast her a grandly apathetic look in response. 

"There is no battle, only assaults in hallways. I am preparing you for such a scenario." He evenly stated. 

Inoue gave a pout, half-heartedly pushing down the smile threatening to surface. 

\--  
.  
.  
.

Ultimately, it was not her friends, or Soul Society that restored her belief in herself, it was her enemy and Las Noches that had finally convinced her of her worth.  
No power was to be gained from remaining safely behind the shadows of people who always fought for her.  
But when her enemy forced her hand by means of a morbid execution, it was only then, that she learned she had what it took to bring back the dead.  
The extent of her abilities had developed with the help of Ichigo's Hollow powers. 

The second thing emerged after all the times she'd compulsively tried to fight Ulquiorra.  
With a slap, with feeble resistance, with her words...  
It was the simple fact that she could stand up for herself after all.  
Because no inner spine of steel could be forged from being with people who treated her as delicately and kindly as she treated them.  
Only when Inoue found herself in a different realm, forced to defend her very person, living with a real everyday fear that she could be ordered dead, did she realize that she felt so very strongly about so many things.

There were also two things Ulquiorra was able to prove at the end of this whole ordeal: 

Firstly, that she _had_ given him her trust after all.  
And secondly...  
That because of that flimsy, little, fluttering feeling - She was now a Traitor.

At the end of the day, the ones Inoue Orihime had betrayed were her friends. 

-

She looked into her golden shield, face appearing almost grim.  
A trickle of cold sweat from the amount of exertion snaked down to her neck, seeping into the collar of her dress.  
The dampness gathering under the material caused her to shiver. 

Why was she still wearing this uniform, anyway?  
Did her subconscious decide it appropriate for her telltale allegiance?

But more importantly...  
Was all this healing just in her head?  
Was she just dreaming up Ulquiorra's restoration?

Her heart plummeted at the thought, and suddenly she was filled with gut-wrenching dread that everything she was doing was for nothing.  
Everything just seemed so easy.  
Finding herself in Hueco Mundo, seeing Ulquiorra, being greeted without a shred of resistance.  
It did feel very much like a dream.  
She was beginning to entertain the idea this was all her silly imagination's doing. 

_No, this could be a chance and I need to do my best._  
_I need to try._  
Her ginger head gave a firm succession of nods.  
_Focus, Inoue._

She lowered her eyes to the motionless form on the sand, a paperwhite stillness lying behind the yellow pulse of Reishi.  
Her arms flinched with a retorting cramp as she raised them higher, bearing down with all her resolve and concentration over Rikka's dome. 

She had wanted to bring him back, even as he was dying right after the defeat.  
If she truly were to face the facts of the matter, she just didn't do it because she had suddenly reverted to being a guilt-ridden coward hiding behind the imagined disapproval of her friends and herself. 

She was indebted to all of them.  
And her righteousness declared that made all the difference.  
Kurosaki-kun had died to rescue her from this enemy.

To bring him back was just unspeakable. 

...

... But wasn't she also indebted to him?

When Kurosaki-kun had lost all rationality, an instinctive wildling gathering a massive Gran Rey Cero to be hurled their way...  
Hadn't Ulquiorra saved her and Ishida-kun?  
Indirectly or not, it was the same pattern he'd done over and over to protect her.  
It was the way he always did things to convince her.  
He permitted threats, he taunted and scared her until she all but abandoned her hope, but in the very last seconds, he would always make sure she had her life.  
It was cruel in its beginnings, but it was merciful for a Hollow. 

The right thing to do might _not_ have a lot to do with loyalties and familiarities.  
Sometimes the right thing to do was simply this.  
An undeniable feeling of certainty.  
This felt right to her. 

... They didn't know him like she did. 

The guilt twisted along her insides, even as she stubbornly continued her Negation.

This time, she wasn't moving for someone else's cause.  
She was moving for her own reasons, relying on nothing but her faith in him.  
Even if it seemed to all be happening in her mind,  
... Inoue Orihime wanted Ulquiorra back. 

Her eyes swept over his thick, dark eyelashes in silent assessment of his condition, and she recalled all those times he'd lounged on her couch, in all those days he'd managed to stop by before and after his tasks, pretending to be asleep.  
'Resting his eyes.' He'd said.  
Inoue's mouth pulled up unthinkingly, in a bittersweet smile that blindly overlooked his deception.  
She could almost laugh about it now, if she didn't feel like she was somehow betting her future. 

But Inoue finally understood every excruciating emotion, every dark thing that composed him.  
And this knowledge had allowed her soul to make a connection, to want to fill his emptiness and nurture him.  
To make this terribly traitorous decision.  


She studied the steady motions of his sunken chest and her eyes softened, reassured, because he was breathing fitfully.  
The rise and fall looked almost tranquil despite his lacking form.  


"Ulquiorra..." Her soft voice ventured in another attempt to get him to rouse, and to distract her troubled mind. 

It had been what she felt was hours and hours now.  
Possibly the longest Negation she had ever attempted.  
Only, she wasn't even the least bit spiritually tired for all the silent protests her body was giving her.  
It was as if her soul was tapping from an unlimited source beyond her comprehension and she still couldn't determine a cause for it.

... This was most likely proving to be a dream after all. 

To her relief, a sharp sound forced her concentration back, and the shield user saw a large crack suddenly break out over that surface, snaking sideways over the whole width of his forehead, and cutting into a jagged drop along one temple. 

Inoue's eyes widened, seeing the familiar shape it carved away as small granules broke from the fissures.

The girl straightened with a sudden eagerness when the bone gave another sharp crunch and began to come apart, exposing a matted spill of more dark hair underneath.

She couldn't possibly stop now, when she'd come this far.  
Dream or not, it suddenly didn't matter.  
She would make this happen, right now. 

Inoue's face tensed into a focused grimace and she threw all her willpower into the shield, feeding it a burst of renewed energy that caused it to glow ever brighter.  
Her heartbeat escaladed with the concentration and the building moment until it was hammering against her chest like a steady pounding drum, urging her on and on, and more and more, until her hands were trembling from the blood throbbing underneath her skin. 

A gasp tumbled out of her when that thick ivory surface suddenly splintered into eggshell facets all across his face.  
Her throat tightened as the pieces fell away unheeded.  
It rained large fragments on the ground, finally revealing a fine bridged nose and one tear-marked, alabaster cheek to her soaring heart.  
And then the rest of it crumbled away, as easily as earth devoid of moisture, and Inoue found herself staring at Ulquiorra's perpetual sleeping tranquility, his almost immaculately virtuous face.  
It was beguiling, beautiful and otherworldly, entirely defenseless now.  
And she had brought it back.  


Inoue was so focused on his face that she hadn't noticed something else starting to happen.  
A faded glow reflecting against his skin finally drew her attention.  
It was coming from the fragments of his Hollow skull in the sand, shards glinting amidst what little pale moonlight crept between his shoulders. 

They grew luminous before bursting all too suddenly into little shimmers of powdery green. 

"What..." Inoue tensed with a harsh murmur, ramrod-still and staring. 

The particles ghosted along Ulquiorra's face and shoulders before latching on to an invisible stream of wind that whisked the little glimmers up over his unconscious body. 

What was happening?  
The shield-user's face slackened watching the strange transcendence.

Those precarious specks flowed out of the shield like small fireflies and began to fill a space in the desert a few feet behind it.  
It balled and gathered, whirling in dense spirals as it formed a floating solidity.  
And as she watched with slowly widening eyes, it became a cloud that thickened, its bulges and folds crackling with bolts of green that began to ricochet like birthed lightning within its confines. 

It was an ominous shade of a heavily pregnant storm that kept pushing outwards, until it towered over her and the shield, and cast a dark, chilling shadow over the white sands in its precipitation.  
There was a static that fizzled through the air, zipping up her spine and neck.  
And Inoue broke out in goosepimples, every bit a familiar reaction to the emanating power she recognized as Ulquiorra's.  
Her body responded almost instinctively to his presence.  
She began to shiver uncontrollably, tightening her mouth with a hunch, straining for him and then withholding. 

The stretch of cumulous began to trickle moisture as the air grew viscous with humidity.  
And then it exploded with a thick, pelting, almost beautiful luminescent rainfall.  
Inoue's breaths died away, her gray eyes were motionless in astonishment, because amidst the condensed streaks she was staring at an invisible creature's silhouette - Its rising form outlined against the harsh smack of the droplets that never reached the sand under its towering presence. Her immediate thought was to get the Arrancar as far away from this new unknown presence as possible.

The girl ripped her stare away, frantically eyeing Ulquiorra's sleeping form.  
And she almost faltered holding up her shield, doubly shocked now, because his solid body was beginning to undergo its own changes...  
Thoughts of the presence she'd seen temporarily left her as she watched the morphing of the Negation truly begin to work. 

Shreds of his tattered white collar emerged from the confines around him, beginning to fuse together hovering above his neck.  
The fabric of his uniform spread out, reforming around his shoulders and down his back.  
Armored pieces from his emaciated body fell away in deconstruction only to be replaced by pliable skin that stretched over bones being altered and rebuilt to a new, more human skeleton. Tendons stretched, moulding firmly along the ridges of newly defined muscles.  
Inoue was completely engrossed in the transformation, watching Ulquiorra's flesh beginning to bulk and fill out under that unblemished alabaster.  
Replacing the previous emaciation that left him looking like a starved husk, filling into his waist and chest before forming a second ring around the hole planted between his collars.  
Steadily, it carved out that recognizable, steel-cut torso.  


The reformed coat descended, draping slightly parted over his chest with that familiar '4,' bleeding like ink into one solidifying pectoral.  
Her gray eyes flickered with relief as his newly-formed flesh finally jerked with a pull of an inhale, ribs rising against the strain of a taut stomach, hipbones digging into the sand.  
Tattered sleeves melded together, and she watched in awe as the last bits of his hakama pleats fell in neat folds over those lean legs, coattails finally descending with a light billow.

"Ulquiorra..." Her eyes snapped to his face, searching for any signs of stirring or waking.  
Her heart felt like it would fly out of her chest at the sheer force it was pounding.

The anticipation finally bubbled out of her and she expelled a sound, trembling with a happiness she was almost ashamed of, seeing those pale lips slightly parting with another full breath.  
She was breathing hard, exhilarated from the prickle of an adrenaline rush seeing him there, mind barely grasping the impossible that had just occurred.  
In front of her lay the unconscious form of the Cuatro Espada - her enemy.  
... Her protector. 

Just as he had been when he'd returned from that alternate dimension. 

She reeled, incredulous and soaring.  
Her lips stretching into a broad smile as she pushed a hand to her forehead and laughed a bubble of relief and joy, a high crow of victory at the starless sky.  
Unthinkingly, her body pushed forward, an eager hand beginning to reach for him, until something in her very suddenly panicked and she snatched herself back with hitched breaths straining into her dress.  


What would she tell him...  
Her excited eyes searched his face in thought. 

Where should she start and how could she even begin to explain... 

It didn't matter, Inoue quickly assured herself.  
She just wanted to see him respond.

Her mouth opened attempting to call him again.  
And then her heart seized their gleeful beats, and for a moment, she felt time stop and she froze staring down at him.  
Her gray gaze widened as the Cuatro's body almost too quickly, paled a shade.  
Like whatever life her Rikka had given him was being drawn back out and sucked away into the monochrome desert.  


And then, before she could get over the slight horror, Ulquiorra's body began to visibly fade.  
For a second, she denied it. She was tired and that's all it was.  
But her eyes jerked frantically, pupils straining to comprehend the spectral image.  
No, it wasn't her imagination.  
She looked him over, inspecting every dulling portion of his body with a panic until her gray eyes landed on one visible hand.  
Those fingers began to appear hazy, the appendages growing fainter until she was horrified seeing the ground under them in their translucency. 

_Oh no, oh god._

She fell back, hand slipping from its latched grip on her hair. 

_No-no-no-no-no!!!_  
_Please!!!_

"No!!!" Inoue loudly cried out, pushing instinctively at the shield as she scrambled to a tight crouch.  
"Ulquiorra!" She called desperately before giving a high whine of frustration, squeezing out every bit of her energy, growing steadily more agitated.  
Like a departing ghost, he lapsed in transparency.  
And she could only chase after its brutal development, each passing second, feeling a building panic prickling at her nerves, gripping her brain, shaking it.  
_No, this wasn't happening. This can't be happening._  
Seeing his arms, his shoulders, his neck and torso beginning to disappear completely into the air.  
"Please, no! Don't. Please. Oh, please..." The repetitions, like a piteous chant bubbled from her as she felt her emotions spiralling out of control.  
The adrenaline dove into her hands, causing them to waver and shake uncontrollably over that golden glow.  
For a moment, Inoue almost broke into the shield to physically grab him.  


Not like this, not when she was this close! 

Her eyes brimmed with moistening frustration and she began to sob his name - A dizzying fear beginning to replace the heights of happiness that had her soaring only moments earlier.  
Her shoulders shook as the tears fell in streaks and then in full torrents, down her cheeks over her lips.  
And she pleaded, repeatedly, endlessly with a disregard to how wrong it all was:  
A prisoner begging for her captor's return.  


"Don't go!!!" She pressed with an anguished moan, weakly falling to her knees, seeing the coat beginning to dissipate like an evaporating mist. 

"Ulquiorra, wake up-" Her voice pleaded, becoming small and feeble, as the vast stretch of open desert swallowed it.  
She pushed her head down with a loud cry.  
"Ulquiorra!"  


Her lungs filled with a dire inhale. 

" _Please wake up!!!_ "  


A scream.  
A fervent heart-wrenching sound that bridged the small distance between them.  


She froze with a hitched gasp, because Ulquiorra's lids snapped opened then, clear, reflective emeralds that seemed to look straight into her dampened, aggrieved ones.  
Inoue caught that stare mirroring the shimmering gold of her shield, and her heart clenched so tightly seeing it, that a sharp pain physically coursed through her.  


"Ulquiorra, stay with me." She unthinkingly blurted, pushing herself forward until her nose barely touched the surface of her Rikka.  


But there was no visible reaction in his eyes.  
He remained strangely unmoving and unresponsive.  
And she wanted to think that perhaps he couldn't really hear her at all.  
Inoue's mouth jerked, scrambling to say something else if it meant keeping him alert.  


And then the sand behind that stare grew steadily clearer. And before she could utter anything else... the Cuatro was completely gone.  
Her shield fell over nothing but an impression into the sand.  


For a moment, Inoue simply knelt there, her face contorting with a crushing sorrow and rising disbelief at what just happened.  
And then her form collapsed with another wail of raw sobs that raked at the walls of her throat.  
She threw her arms into the sand in frustration, hair falling forgotten over her face as the shield slowly dwindled away with the severe jerks of her shoulders.  


"Ulquiorra..."  
The broken cry tore from her lips.  


The wind gave a moan in response, pushing at the granules along her knees as she bowed her face and sunk with defeat.  
And then, a heavy, low thump reverberated through the ground.  


For a moment, she only wanted to dismiss anything else, and she continued to cry with ragged breaths.  
But another weighty thump that pulsated, followed by a low, guttural rumble and the sound of approaching footfalls followed, pulling her consciousness back.  


She hesitantly raised her damp eyes with a quaking breath, arm curling instinctively to her throbbing chest as her gaze met with a solid presence.  
Inoue's body could only stiffen weakly.  
A feeble response that resulted after such a severe loss.  


A creature stood before her, black as the deepest depths of a pit.  
Its eyes closed, as if in suspended slumber whilst standing only a few feet in front of where Ulquiorra had lain.  


Her eyes flickered with brief recognition.  
It was that elusive thing she'd forgotten about, previously standing shadowed under the cloud's rainfall. 

Slowly, the fear began to sink in as Inoue thought about the preservation of her own life, and with a feeble hiss of breath, she scrambled to stand on her shaking legs, swallowing her fright.  
With a stumble, she rose. Bracing her arms around herself.  


"Who are you?!" She demanded shakily after a pause, swiping at her blurry vision, trying to force down the ache in her chest.  


It blindly cocked its head in a slow, rousing annoyance at her tone.  
An idle sound trickled through its throat like a bubbling geyser as it angled its head in her direction.  


Her breath jerked and she crumbled back a step, regarding the animal warily. 

"... Mind your tone.... Human." 

The tall creature's voice was sweeping and dark, a low coasting rumble that carried over the wind as if coming from everywhere at once.  
It blindly rose on its haunches, a slow stand that had it looming over Inoue.  
Its jowls twisted with a snarl of prominent canines in an expression that appeared excessively repulsed by her impudence. 

The shield user stared up at it with widening eyes, belatedly surprised that it had responded after all.  
And then she was visibly shrinking back, seeing something rippling, beginning to stir and shift along its spine. 

Without warning, two inky leather wings exploded from its back, unfurling like wrung-out gliders into the sky, shadowing the moon in its broad span.  
They stretched across his sides, glistening with down feathers along the thick ridges. 

The girl gave a frightened gasp, pushing herself back in a half-crawling stumble.  
In a kick of sand around her legs, she wrenched herself away from his growing shadow. 

But the creature remained eerily still, lifting its head, listening with steady rumbles of breath, until she came to a hesitant stop further from him. 

"Hnnn..." It crooned throatily, giving a satisfied glower at her display of terror. 

The shield user could only stare in anxious silence.  
It was a bat, Inoue realized.  
Her breaths jittered. 

A wolfish-looking bat with a starkly white bone helm fashioned like a Viking's.  
Pronounced ridges of bone ran along the edges of its pale surface, meeting at the center before they broke off into an embossed V, until those two trenches ran a steady split over its sloping forehead.  
Curled horns sprung out, vertical and long over the opposite sides of its head as it lowered its face with a ragged breath of hot air that stirred the sands under it. 

And then it slowly opened its eyes. 

In them Inoue saw a startling familiarity.  
Those glowing yellow irises with sharp slit pupils centered over twin green sclera.  
A flash of Ulquiorra with that leathery rope tangled into Kurosaki-kun's neck entered her mind.  
His stare bearing down into hers like daggers straight into her heart.  


Her eyes settled with a steady simmer before finally lowering. 

"I-...I'm sorry... I- How very rude of me..." Came her trembling whisper. 

She was surprised her manners had managed to kick in at all.  
But somehow, the look in its eyes, the familiarity, gave her the audacity to continue talking. 

"Please tell me, who are you?" She asked with a controlled steadiness. 

It rose to full height on its hindquarters and Inoue finally saw its broad chest, exposed to the light of the moon, covered with silken black fur that disappeared into a tightening waist. 

"You are a fool not to know, Human." 

Its gravelly tone trickled over the space between them.  
She bit her lip, unable to come up with a proper response to the statement. 

Its eyes studied her keenly. 

"I am a part of Ulquiorra, and he, a part of me."  
The creature slowly declared with a raise of clawed appendages snagging at the shadowed spaces in front of it. 

Its arms were strangely elongated, reaching down to its lean knees as it lowered its threatening claws.  
Daring a glance down, Inoue could see upright legs, stretched long and taut in a familiar way that reminded her too much of the Cuatro's second form. 

Taking the creature's entirety in, her eyes suddenly widened with realization.  
The monster narrowed its stare down at her, noting her transparency. 

"My name is Murcielago." Came the low throaty tone of introduction.  
Its snout curled back with a mesh of sharp, gleaming fangs. 

"I am Ulquiorra's Zanpakuto." 

... 

Inoue's hand clenched in anxiety, pressing for security to her stomach as her insides trembled barely holding her together.  
"Ulquiorra's... Zanpakuto...?" She repeated disjointedly. 

Her thoughts raced. 

_If this was Murcielago..._  
_Where was Ulquiorra?_  


_And why had he disappeared?_

She could feel her shoulders tightening as she raised her face to him, firmly resisting to ask her questions while fumbling to assess the creature's temperament.  
It simply stared at her with an onset of sudden detachment at her meager response.  


"Murcielago-... san..." She respectfully started.  
The black creature's eyes tightened into slits almost immediately, causing her to pause with a quaver.  
Its leathery fox-like muzzle pushed up in sneering disgust as it gave a low snort. 

"Call me Murcielago. Only that. I detest being referred to in a manner similar to creatures such as yourself." 

The knots in her stomach loosened, and Inoue felt the tension lift as it looked away with a faltering scowl. 

She gave an uneasy breath of a mirthless laugh at the more than familiar rectification and finally, after some hesitation, lowered with a hastened bow, projecting as much reverence as she could muster with her jittery knees. 

She closed her eyes and gathered herself with steady breath.  
"... I'm terribly sorry, Murcielago." She sincerely nodded.  
Her eyes gave a wavering but slightly curious lift, watching the creature's face angle with a sideways look at her.  


The beast mirrored the Cuatro's expression so precisely that for a moment, she could almost see him.  
It strangely gave the girl a semblance of comfort, despite the utter confusion and fear brought on by the entire situation.  
She was still here with a part of him, and she would take that over absolutely nothing. 

"I-... I've never talked to an Espada's Zanpakuto before... I honestly never knew they even existed as... as separate..."  
She trailed off and then mutely cringed when the beast gave her an insulted glower. 

"Is it so hard to fathom..." Murcielago gave an indignant snort.  
"A Hollow has more than enough souls to deposit in a sword compared to other inferior creatures." It said in a dangerous, jabbing tone.  
The sharp furs on its back rose with defiance, driving it to flap its wings to shake the bristling away.  
She squinted as the conjured gust flung grains of sand at her face and meekly brushed the particles away from her damp cheeks. 

"I-I... really don't mean to offend..." Inoue gently insisted, casting her eyes downwards with newfound fervor. 

Apparently, Ulquiorra's sword was as equally irate as he was when it came to creature-superiority issues.  
She shouldn't have suspected otherwise.  
But if they were so similar, it was also no surprise she was still alive.  
And she needed to stay that way, if she wanted to get some answers. 

"Please don't take this the wrong way... But how am I talking to you, Murcielago?" Inoue slowly asked. 

The creature looked her over with another disenchanted expression before finally speaking.  
"Your power naturally connects with this aspect of him. With me." Came the guttural answer. 

Her eyebrows lowered.  
And she silently prayed this creature held the same amount of patience the Cuatro did.  
"I... I'm not sure I understand..." The shield user ventured.  


It gave her an evenly measured look.  
"I was conceived by means of the Hogyoku." Murcielago was eyeing her with a semblance of tolerance, which she found to be a relief.  
"I am the strength of Ulquiorra's Hollow powers compressed into a sword gifted to him by the one he admires most."  
The creature lowered its snout at her, gauging her expression as she tried to stifle her sudden aversion to the revelation. 

_Aizen?_  
Who else could it be.  
Her expression withered without control.  
Of course Ulquiorra _admired_ that self-entitled, egotistical manipulator with a god-complex. 

"Just as your own power was awakened by the Hogyoku. And compressed into those hairclips, gifted to you by the one you admired most." 

_Sora..._

An image of her smiling departed brother entered her mind, conjured impulsively.  
Her delicate eyebrows pushed together, causing her forehead to wrinkle, and she cast the creature a mute look. 

"How... do you know..." She asked quietly, searching its face. 

"Do you not think Ulquiorra conducts careful research on his target's source of power before approaching them?" Came the accusatory leer of a question. 

She flinched and suppressed the urge to cringe.  
Of course he must have.  
Only, she didn't suspect even his consciousness or memories carried over into his sword.  
She was still trying to get used to that.  
Though that did make sense if she were to treat Ulquiorra's Zanpakutou the same way she would Kurosaki-kun's.  
He was always telling her old-man Zangetsu seemed to watch his every development from his inner consciousness. And it should make sense that the same would follow for every Zanpakutou that held a soul or consciousness of its own.  


Did that mean Ulquiorra actually had a sentient relationship with his sword?  
She looked the creature over again.  
The shield user never truly entertained the thought because the Cuatro hadn't drawn his weapon until her final day in Las Noches.  
The day he finally decided to take Kurosaki-kun seriously.  
Other than that, he'd never once mentioned Murcielago's presence to her. 

"Because of the similar way your powers have been forged, you and Ulquiorra share a commonality..." Murcielago continued in its gravelly tone.  
"One that Lord Aizen thought fit to experiment with for a compatible Reiatsu binding..."  
Sharp teeth stretched out in a grin.  
"- And he was correct in his hypothesis." 

Murcielago leaned in towards her, causing Inoue to recoil.  
The idea she was an experiment pushed a shudder through her.  
Aizen truly was a fantastically sick butt-face.  
She almost contorted in disgust.  


"The way you treat your source of power..." The creature's yellow eyes pulsed with emphasis.  
"-with Respect... forms an unspoken understanding that Ulquiorra and you both recognize and carry in yourselves. It reflects in the way you wield us."  
That throat rumbled with its flow of explanation. 

And then it gave a smirk, entirely more expressive than its holder. 

"The difference lies only in how you further developed this Respect. Ulquiorra possesses the will to listen to my subconscious advice and holds it in high regard. He has refused to show Lord Aizen my true form as I work to perfect it. While you, as a human, succumb to the weakness of your emotions. At the slightest distress of your fairies, you cease to strain them." 

Inoue bit back a retort and lowered her head, knowing there was some truth to the matter.  
When Tsubaki had been broken before Hachi's reparation, she almost bowed under the weight of all her guilt. It took her some time to trust herself again, thinking she didn't deserve to control her fairies when she wasn't strong enough.  
She'd been more than careful since then, treating them as delicately as possible outside of battle, and to a fault, during one as well.  
Did Ulquiorra only use Murcielago when absolutely necessary because of this same said Respect?  
He'd only drawn his sword after he determined the Substitute Shinigami as someone he absolutely had to destroy.  
He hadn't even used it with Grimmjow.  
It was entirely possible that the Cuatro entrusted only worthy opponents to his weapon...  
Inoue's eyes cleared.  
That _could_ be counted as a form of Respect. 

The creature took her long silence as a subdued benevolence and decidedly continued. 

"... Because both his power and yours originated from the same source, your Spiritual Energies were already compatible. Together, you are able to reform me. It is this compatibility that allows us to converse at this very moment." 

"I see... Th- Thank you for explaining all of it..." Inoue's face cleared slightly.  
"If you don't mind me asking..." She raised her face, eyes searching his.  
" Ulquiorra... - Well, the other part of him, Murcielago, he... he- ... disappeared."  
Her voice shook at the last word.  
She pressed fingers to her hairclips and looked up, trying not to falter.  
"If... If I have my Rikka, then why isn't Ulquiorra with you?" 

The beast gave a sideways shake of its wolfish head.  
"He simply cannot hold his form and remains incomplete, human... He is broken."  
Came the throaty statement.  
"Broken..." Inoue's voice cracked as she gave Murcielago a worried look. 

"In your inner world, you cannot bring back a physical body, only... parts of one's consciousness that resides in you."  
It turned back to her and pulled one black-feathered arm up, pointing a curled talon to its own chest, stressing the point. 

"It is most fortunate, that Lord Aizen enjoys experimenting. Because of his manipulation of the orbs, and because of your power of Negation, I can return to my wielded form in the real world." 

"Orbs?" Inoue's eyebrows rose in confusion.  
"Created from the Hogyoku as well. Just as most everything that comprises Las Noches. It has responded to your wish... and Ulquiorra's..."  
"Our wishes...?" Inoue could only repeat the creature's words, dumbfounded.  
"A combination of your will. Your will to restore him, and his final will..." Those eyes looked her over meaningfully.  
"What ... was his final will?" Inoue's breath rushed out of her, suspended in the air between them.  
Murcielago lowered, enough that its face levelled with her own and she swallowed the anxiety called by the beast's weighty power.  


"... It was to have the Power to fight." It finally rumbled.  


Murcielago gave her a look, and then lowered with a glower as she showcased her brief disquiet.  
"Could it be, you remain unaware of what you have awakened, human?"  
The voice seemed to mock her for her perceived daftness. 

Only Inoue was just so preoccupied with unanswered questions that she entirely missed the tone, losing herself in thought. 

"I..." Her face scrunched.  
She didn't know anything about orbs.  
But if it had anything to do with her most recent encounter with Ulquiorra, then...  


Those eyes looked at her until her face cleared.  
"... In Urahara-san's lab room, I -... I watched footage that was displayed on monitors from Las Noches. I saw Ulquiorra's fight... No...-"  
Her speculative gray eyes looked up at the creature's shining yellow ones.  
"I wasn't watching him fight... It was more like I was seeing everything through his eyes. And, those spirit ribbons... "  
Her voice trailed off remembering the flutters reaching for her arms and latching on to her, causing the monitors to come to life.  
Seeing Kurosaki-kun's face seeming to stare directly into her, when he had been addressing the Cuatro.  
Remembering how Ulquiorra's voice answered from the monitors in the room one moment, and then directly into her mind the next.  
And after that...  


_"Enclose, Murcielago."_  
His command echoed through her mind.  


A flash of the ground rising up to meet her, and Urahara-san's faint call of her name...  
Darkness...  


She'd blacked out.  


Inoue's ginger locks snatched up with a rush of remembrance as her eyes squinted, piecing her awareness together.  
"Is that why I'm here...?" She slowly asked, tilting sideways warily.  
"Because I awakened his... your... consciousness in the orbs?"  


The creature was silent for a moment, and then it turned away with a series of grunts that sounded very much like breaths of snickering. 

_Wait._  
Inoue narrowed her eyes briefly.  
_Was Murcielago... laughing?_

The girl drew back, her mind now racing, because another disturbing thought was dawning on her...  
If the orbs were manipulated by Aizen, did that mean this was part of his plan?  
To bring back the Cuatro Espada in case anything happened to him? 

To use her to do it? 

Her stomach began to sink along with her fervent need.  
And as if the whole ordeal hadn't been physically testy, her heart began to pick up its incessant beats right where they left off.  
Each thump grew heavy and painful at the idea she had been manipulated.  
Again.  
To think she was so emotionally invested, and so certain that this was what she wanted to do... 

Was that why Ulquiorra said she was special? 

Her chest gave an unsuspected and painful wrench as she looked up helplessly.  
The creature closed its eyes, seeming to sense her distress just as keenly as Ulquiorra had always been able to.  
That small characteristic turn of head, the mute dismissal of a reaction to her gaze.  
This small knee-jerk response told her she was entirely too readable.  


"Foolish girl. You are here because of that... and because your soul wills it." Murcielago's face bent closer with a grin, those primal, animalistic eyes piercing into her.  
"If you are not searching, human, you will not find this place." 

Inoue cast a look at the ground, her earlier certainty suddenly misplaced because of Aizen's possible tampering.  
Despite this being part of anyone else's plans...  
The girl closed her eyes.  
She knew in her heart that she wanted it, regardless.  
It was frustrating, and it didn't make sense and it was tearing her apart.  
But if she was so apt on brushing away all this pain... it meant she'd truly decided.  
Inoue swallowed the lump in her throat threatening to push moistness into her eyes, and she straightened instead.  


"My time here grows short, human. I suspect that you possess something of his... Do you not?"  
It looked down at her expectantly.  
She wavered, pulling away from those prying eyes until the beast turned its head and looked off towards the dunes before it spoke again.  
"Just as I am able to manifest because of a physical tie in the real world, you must hold something that permitted Ulquiorra to appear in his own form, that is the only reason I ask." 

Inoue looked down and instantly remembered the plastic bowl resting atop her table, covered in saran wrap.  
Those six little flecks amidst the sands of Hueco Mundo.  
Her hands balled. 

She didn't want to be part of Aizen's plans.  
And if the Cuatro's manipulation went well beyond death, then perhaps she was walking straight into a gaping trap that would swallow her and her friends.  
Once that cage sprung shut, there was no turning back, and it would be her full responsibility to bear.  
And this time, there would be no Kurosaki-kun's boundless power to save the rest of the ones she'd hurt.  
And she certainly wouldn't ask him to rescue her.  
This time, she would push him away and willingly walk to her death bearing her cross, if it came to that.  


Inoue turned her face to the crooked Hueco Mundo moon, gray gaze tracing its curves, distractedly.  


A flash of Ulquiorra's face in her mind, his shoulders breaking away in the wind, that light rimming the depths of his eyes... 

His hand reaching out for her slowly.  
Brushing past her outstretched fingers and settling over her wrist, pulling her closer until his pale face was there, hovering only inches of space from hers.  
Noiseless and still but for the breaths slipping through the shadows between them. 

He was leaning in, his eyes on her hairpins before descending slowly to her face, and then that reflective emerald glaze was dwarfing everything else as the darkness pulled them closer.  
Her breath hitched as that alabaster cheek brushed hers.  
He lowered his mouth to her ear, angling sideways until the tips of his lashes kissed at her skin.  
"Do you trust me?" Came the unbidden whisper that seemed to trickle into her mind.  
A parted frown trailing down the sensitive skin behind her jawline.  
"... I need only that." A breath against the pulse of her neck.  
The wind rustled into her ginger tousles and she almost imagined those long fingers reaching up, brushing along her temple, nudging her orange locks back into place. 

Inoue shivered, closing her eyes.  
Her hand clenched, torn with the magnitude of this suspended indecision. 

"Human..."  
Inoue finally looked up at the guttural tone.  
Noticing the tips of the creature's furs now catching a light not quite reflected by the moon.  
It studied her for a moment before lowering its wings and finally folding them into its spine. 

"I do. I-... have something of his in my possession..." She finally whispered.  
Murcielago's slit pupils tightened, observing her feeble form.  
"Please... tell me how I can bring him back..."  
Inoue's voice had grown strangely quiet and empty. 

The creature straightened then, pulling away from her.  
Its shadowed fur began to glow, brighter than anything the desert sand reflected. 

"Open your eyes..." It said in a softer rumble that sounded almost tender.  
"For that remains... to be seen." 

Inoue's spine straightened as the tips of its horns began to disintegrate, particles floating up to the sky. 

"Murcielago..." Her voice was a dangerous teeter, realizing he was beginning to leave her just as Ulquiorra had. 

It cast her a strangely meaningful look, those slit pupils expanding as the light filled its yellow depths.  
"I do not wish to thank you for restoring me to my form, so consider it the highest regard that I have answered your questions in return." 

Inoue watched that snout pull up in a small twisting semblance of a smile.  
And then Murcielago was evaporating along with the rest of its shoulders and arms. 

"Wait." Inoue suddenly bit out.  
"Please... wait... I-... I don't know what you mean!"  
She stumbled forward, jerking her hand out to catch at him.  
And it was painfully nostalgic, the way she merely grasped at wisps of particles then, watching the rest of him float up into the sky. 

"You will meet them soon enough..."  
Her face stilled and she pulled herself up.  
"Who?" She slowly asked, forehead furrowing.  


"You will have your answer soon."  
Came the disembodied murmur that vibrated through her consciousness. 

"What-... What do you mean?!" Inoue cried out, whipping up to follow the black, departing swirls. 

"The shattered souls of the Cuatro..." It whispered into her mind, growing faint.  
"The empty souls to piece together." 

And then the low vibration of its voice was gone. 

\--- 

Inoue was staring up at the sky one moment, and then she was bodily wrenched back, suddenly sucked into a closing passageway that reminded her every bit of a Garganta hole.  
The desert dissipated in a swirl of a black storm's eye, plunging her into inky darkness.  
She felt the pressure assault her spine and coast along her throat, tightening it and thinning the little breath she could manage, until she cried out from the force being exerted onto her.  
Her voice only came out a strangled squeak as a sudden dizziness assaulted her, a sharp twisting in her stomach forcing the air out of her lungs in one ejection before everything went black. 

She hurtled deep into nothingness, unseeing.  
Only barely aware that she could possibly die because, didn't she need to exert Reiatsu to avoid falling into the abyss of a Garganta? 

Her consciousness began to fade as a strangely soothing numbness flooded her.  
Was this what oblivion felt like? 

She drifted, weightless and lightheaded.  
It wasn't so bad...  
She began to give in to the emptiness.  
It wasn't bad... at all...  
Her consciousness released the hold it had over her thoughts.  


...  
And then she heard a voice. 

"... Woman."  
It rippled through her body and mind in jogged waves. 

Inoue's unseeing eyes opened slowly, half-lidded and heavy, sensing that emanating presence drifting alongside her. 

A subtle ghost of a touch fell over her knuckles.  
It pressed, curling over her slim fingers, sliding between the gaps and lingering idly.  
And then the spectral pressure was trailing up her wrist, the feeling of a cool grip closing over her forearm.  
Inoue's arm lifted and the presence slowly pulled her along.  
A flash of her walking the hallways of Las Noches with him, filled her mind.  
The artificial sun slicing into her eyes, the marble pillars slipping by, the barest ripple of white coattails nudged by desert wind.  


_Ulquiorra..._  
She felt her mind whisper into the blackness.  


The presence slowed.  
"Do you truly..."  
The waves of that fluid murmur, all around her. "-want me back...?"  


_I don't know if it's the right thing to do, Ulquiorra... I just don't know anymore._  
Though her chest ached, Inoue was too tired to be emotionally pillaged any further, too spent to cry any more tears for him.  
It was a latent, meager response.  
One that came from the numbness beginning to wrap around her. 

He lingered, quiet.  
And then Inoue felt the careful tap of a finger on her sternum.  
"This... was never about right or wrong." Came the soft whisper.  


Something projected outwards from the touch on her chest.  
It covered her entirety, encasing her.  
And then it filled her, closing over her skin and nerves, protecting her from the assault of the Nothingness around her.  
It wrapped itself around her with a tempered hold, and the familiarity of that encompassing presence brought his face, his hands, his Hollow embrace into her vaguely conscious mind.  


A pulse of green swept across her vision then, the only brightness in that endless pit.  
It gathered into her back, forming a cushion of solidity. 

And then she slammed painlessly, but roughly into flat ground. 

... 

\- 

A sharply drawn breath broke out of her and into the silence of the room. 

Inoue's eyes flew open, disoriented but reflexively focusing on a yellowing ceiling.  
She stared for a moment, confused before a shadow of movement snatched at her peripheral vision. 

A flash of orange hair. A thump beside her. 

Something grasped her shoulder, firmly squeezing it, and she found herself staring into the familiar and widening eyes of Kurosaki Ichigo.  
For a moment, she was even more confused.  
Visions of Ulquiorra and the creature that comprised his sword were still fresh in her mind.  
Her eyes glazed over.  


"Inoue?" That fiercely protective voice broke into her consciousness with a painful register.  
His face lifted with utter surprise as her eyes swept over his features in slow response.  
"Oh god. Oh _god,_ Inoue!" 

Another string of jostling at her shoulder.  
"You're awake, finally! Shit, oh, shit, I was starting to get so worried-"  
Those eyes...  
She looked at them, transfixed and momentarily fascinated by the sheer fire she saw burning in them, the life and the strength. 

... So different from the gaping void in _his._

A large grin erupted over Ichigo's face and he shot up.  
"She's awake! Hurry up, damn it-" 

_Kurosaki-kun..._

Her throat tried to move with the first stirrings of sound.  
She only managed a hoarse, high-pitched crack.  


The conscious girl watched that handsome face turn away to shout another long string of words and the hand left her shoulder to gesture in the air.  
She blinked slowly, her thoughts trailing with half a mind seeing the fading horizon of a dark, starless sky and a crooked moon, the echoes of a voice and the slow dance of yellow.  
For a moment, she thought she was still following a trail of dust.  


The numbness lifted ever so slowly, and a pain began to writhe and awaken in her.  
It reared as the complexity of real world sounds came rushing into her eardrums.  
She heard a cluster of rapid footfalls and familiar voices shouting one over the other, overlapping, sharpening...  
A black robe dropped in beside her, and then another black robe and a pale hand pushed at the first one with a firm woman's tone. 

Her betrayal... her conflict.  
Her guilt... her grief.  
Her friends and their fights.  
Their lives... 

Kuchiki Rukia's face was suddenly hovering in the space where the ceiling had been and Inoue focused sluggishly at her before a quick and more permanent alertness fastened over her irises and she struggled on her arms, straining feebly to get up. 

"Kuchiki-san-" 

Was that _her_ voice?  
It sounded distant and coarse.  
Weak. 

A hand settled warmly on her shoulder and she looked up to see Ichigo's upside down face.  
"Inoue... Take it easy. You were out _cold._ "  
He teasingly grinned, and it was so warm she felt that child-like fondness stirring at her throat, squeezing a guilty sob from her.  
His composure dropped slightly with surprise as she hid her face from him.  
"I-I... I'm sorry..." She gasped with a tremor, stray strands falling over her cheeks. 

"Hey..." His voice broke through as he eyed her tenderly.  
"It's alright, c'mon." 

"You're scaring her, Kurosaki. Pull away a little." Came the flat tone Inoue recognized as Ishida-kun's.  
"She probably thinks she's still in a nightmare staring up the holes of your nose." Abarai Renji's rough drag of dry humor surfaced somewhere behind him.  


"Renji, shut up."  
The strawberry blonde turned away from her before relenting with a backwards thump and a grumble. 

"Inoue-san..." Rukia squeezed in beside the Substitute Shinigami's shoulder.  
Her wide purple eyes warmed seeing her face.  
"Are you okay?"  
"How... long..." Inoue forced the croak of voice from her unused throat.  
Rukia's mouth twisted slightly and she looked down.  
"You were sleeping for three days..." She somberly informed her, finally raising those purple doe eyes. 

Three days?!  
Inoue's eyes widened. 

"I've been asleep for s-... so long, I'm so sorry, Kuchiki-san, everyone... I-" Her raw squeaking attempts came out frayed and garbled as her tongue floundered to keep up.  
She pulled out of the comforters but Rukia's expectant hand held her down with a quick shake of her raven head.  
"I know how you feel..." She slowly eased. "But it's best to take it easy for now..."  
The Shinigami was just as stubborn about being bedridden, and she understood the second-hand embarrassment of having inconvenienced others that way...  
But after hearing about what Inoue-san had done while she was asleep.  
It was a wonder she had the spiritual and physical energy to get up so quickly at all. 

Inoue gazed at her hesitantly, and then she curled back into the covers and looked at all of them.  
"Everyone..." She whispered, biting down on her lip.  
They all smiled with reassurance at her.  
Even Chad brushed aside his bangs to give her a gentle, relieved look.  
"We're glad you're alright, Inoue-san." He confirmed with a solid murmur.  


And in that moment, looking at them, the girl could feel nothing but guilt.  
Because even then, she was still remembering him. 

His pale, tear-marred face disappearing into the sand.  
His hand reaching for her above the dome.  


That voice, in the darkness of her dreams, still so clearly in her mind. 

_Ulquiorra..._  
Her mind seemed to latch on, almost obsessively.  
She shut her eyes, only to open them feeling Rukia's hand briefly back on her shoulder, squeezing tenderly.  


Her friends didn't deserve this.  
Inoue watched Kuchiki-san turn away to berate the strawberry blonde for something she didn't bother to comprehend.  
And then her eyes were brimming with tears.  
She looked away quickly, burying her face into the blanket, curling fetal into it.  
She was so dirty and sick and twisted and selfish...  
She was a traitor.  
They were all so worried, and all she could think about was Ulquiorra. 

And in that moment, amidst the smiles and joy of her closest friends who greeted her awakening... she felt the true filthy depths of her betrayal.  
Their voices rose into the room, vibrant and brimming with life.  
And the ginger-haired girl forced herself out of the covers, dawning a shaky smile she hated herself for.  


"I told you she'd pull through by today. I just knew it!" The strawberry blonde tilted, addressing the Quincy with a leering grin.  
The Archer gave him a blasé look.  
"You win. Is that what you wanted to hear? Tch." He twisted away.  
"... I never said Inoue-san wouldn't wake up today." Came his flat defense.  
"Oh, it wasn't you who said it." Ichigo fired back smugly, "And I quote: _I personally suspect she might need another three days._ "  
"That leaves room for debate!" The dark-haired boy snapped.  
"Pay up, Ishida." The Substitute Shinigami smirked, poking a finger at the Quincy's bicep.  
"We never made a bet!"  
The raven-haired boy crossed his arms and didn't bother swatting the incessant jabbing finger away.  
"Probably better than going on Urahara-san's planned 'rescue mission' anyway. Who knows what could have happened." Ichigo snorted.  
"I'll agree to that." Ishida relented, finally shoving the orange-haired boy's arm as it went for another jab.  


"I gotta admit, I'm a little curious about inner worlds and places like that though." Rukia piped up softly, thumbing under her chin as the robes pushed up her slim arms.  
"Ichigo's had skyscrapers and an ocean... And mine was a reflection of the forests behind Seireitei..." She trailed off with a scrunched look.  
And then the Shinigami's face lit up entirely, sparkling with interest.  
"I wonder if Inoue-san's mind is filled with cute things..."  


The red-haired vice captain beside her pulled away with a smirk.  
"And then what, you'll draw 'em? You wanna spare cute things and just leave them cute, short-stuff." He mused.  
Rukia sent the tall man a sour pucker, completely insulted. Renji comically rolled his eyes in response, only giving a yelp when the tiny girl's fist landed over his arm with a holler.  


Inoue settled back and watched them.  
These were her friends.  
Her mouth trembled with a rising smile.  


"Inoue..." That gruff tone brought her gaze back to the handsome boy directly above her.  
"You don't have to think about anything right now, okay?" His golden eyes studied her shortly before he looked to the side.  
"Just... get better." Came the sincere murmur, wrapped in that roughened voice.  
He brushed idly at the back of his head and Inoue watched that honey gaze looking off with a touch of a warm smile igniting it.  


For a moment, the ginger-haired girl continued to look at him, a hard lump that had nothing to do with infatuation pushing up the confines of her throat.  
And then the brunt of overwhelming shame seized her and Inoue, to the shock of everyone, began to brokenly cry again.  


\---- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> This chapter took me some time because I really wanted to cram so much more in it.  
> I had plans, and scratched them, and made more, and scratched those.  
> Inoue's rollercoaster emotions really shut my brain down for a while too. 
> 
> Anyways, did I say I would focus on real time? Pretty sure I threw in another TBT in there.  
> Scuse me for that. =3= ;
> 
> In other news,  
> [SPOILER ALERT:]
> 
> -  
> -  
> -
> 
> Bleach has finally ended.  
> And our ship has capsized BUT YKNOW WHAT - after being crushed and moping for a few days unable to wrap this chapter up, I decided... I don't care, Kubo. Bless ya. 
> 
> But damn it.  
> I do. not. care.  
> (=A=)/~
> 
> At least one of my pairings made it out alive.  
> *sends Rukia and Renji along their merry happily-ever-after way*
> 
>  
> 
> I'm sorry for building this up like... forever and ever.  
> Fast pacing has always been my weak point.
> 
> Anyways, thank you as always for the kudos and comments.  
> Thank you to everyone who happens to read, and enjoys it, and who gives this fic a chance. 
> 
> I appreciate it.  
> And as always, till the next update!
> 
> \- Second_Best


	16. Inoue's Inner Consciousness: The Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> I worked on and off on this chapter.  
> And I apologize if it takes some time... I don't really have a beta or anything like that. ^^;  
> Anyways, please enjoy. 
> 
> Notes:  
> SPOILER  
> *Shunshin Chohenge - for people who haven't read the manga after the end of the anime, is Yoruichi's ultimate cat-form.  
> She hates it being mentioned because she loses all control of herself when she activates it. 
> 
> Urahara, in this chapter, refers to it - which pisses her off.

\----

.  
.  
.

There was a short howl and rustle of leaves outside the gaps of the net-screen window behind her head.  
A droning song introducing the coming Winter to Karakura Town.  
The frigid air descended and then seemed to dissipate with the number of heated bodies that now anxiously surrounded her, each in their respective seats with only Chad and Renji lurking by the opposite corners of the nearby stove. 

-

"Sit down, Rukia."

The 6th Division's Vice Captain had given his childhood friend a look, tattooed forehead pulling up above the jagged ink slashing over his eyebrows.

Her mouth parted as she blinked. "But Renji, you need to -"  
"I'll stand." He interrupted, nonchalantly raising a black sleeve before abruptly turning away from her all-too bright, clear eyes.  
"Don't worry, I'll make sure I hear everything." The Lieutenant gave a tight smile. 

There weren't enough chairs around the table, and the two of them as well as the taller Spanish man were the ones left without seats after everyone entered the kitchen. 

"I don't mind standing either."  
Chad looked down at the small doe-eyed Shinigami and gave a nodding gesture.  
"Please go ahead to the table." He murmured, quietly walking towards the rickety-looking refrigerator.  
Renji pressed his form into the steel counter next to the taller man and raised his eyebrows.  
"C'mon, the sooner this is done with, the faster I can get back to patrolling the South Gate." He drawled, waving her off before crossing his arms.

Rukia gave a slightly withered smile and stepped away, finally making her way to the long table.  
She slid her small frame into a seat beside her ginger-haired friend.

They all settled in one by one, each casting Inoue their respective glances while Urahara took to the whistling kettle and later set the tea in front of her.

"An herbal mix that helps with rejuvenation." He narrated merrily, whisking the pot away to set it back on the coaster over the counter.  
The girl gave a gracious dip of head and thanked him.  
Rukia quickly asked if she could buy a box, and after a brief exchange they'd settled back into a terse silence.

Urahara then proceeded to pull out a gleaming, steel-enforced device from one of his coat pockets.  
It glistened, entirely foreign, as it caught the yellowed light above their heads.  
Inoue instinctively reacted, gray eyes flitting to it as she shrank back. 

"Don't worry, Inoue-san. It's not a gun."  
He preempted humorously with a mild-mannered tilt of his head. 

She blinked as it dangled a feet from her nose. 

It was the size of a hammer, with an aerodynamic head that held a gauge above a glowing screen, and a rubber-coated body shaped with impressions where fingers could conveniently grasp it.

Urahara's hand reached up, twisting a large knob on the gadget until low clicks began to emit from the speakers on its surface.  
He swiped it over her, then - Like a security guard would a metal detector wand. 

The girl gave a few blinks as it began to produce whining crackles and groans, static sounds that reminded her of her parent's old radio, perpetually tuned in to AM frequencies.  
The thought did little to ease her, causing a sudden anxiousness more possibly related to her past than anything else to do with the strange object.  
It swept down her back and she consciously twisted, watching it lower over the frame of her chair.  
And then the ex-Captain had extracted himself and given her a big thumbs-up, thumping himself into the seat beside her. 

"Now then! Shall we start?" He asked the girl with a bright smile, beaming eyes roving almost excitedly over everyone in the room. 

Yoruichi cast him a crumbling sidelong glance from beside him.  
He gave her a blink and shrugged inquisitively. 

"What are you, the good cop?" Ichigo drawled, raising his eyebrows. 

\---

Barely a minute into the silence and they could all see her struggling.  
She was just so incredibly predictable, what with her fumbling fingers and fluttering jerks, and that odd something-else that seemed to be masked within the depths of her skittish gray eyes. 

"I-I'm sorry-" She mindlessly said to nobody in particular.  
An apology being the one thing she could freely offer as her mind grappled with any reasonable explanation for the questions hanging in the air. 

"... Take your time."  
Rukia finally blurted, unable to stand her awkwardness without granting her some form of grace.  
She gently nudged the steaming cup of tea to her friend with a bright smile. 

Inoue raised her eyes to the pregnant silence, finally settling on the purple gaze of the one who had spoken beside her.  
"Kuchiki-san... I...-"  
Her eyes lowered to the cup, and the words soon died in her throat upon feeling the Shinigami's small but firm hand on her back. 

The shield user squeezed out a trying smile, molding her fingers over the warmth of the glazed ceramic cup, letting the heat of it seep into her cold, clammy palms.

"I don't even know where to begin." She finally whispered, lifting it and staring weakly into the earthy tones she couldn't seem to drink.  
The lump in her throat persisted, and she felt she'd choke if she even tried to swallow one sip.  
The pungent, slightly mossy floral fragrance permeated from the steam, assaulting her nose until she finally set the cup down on the table in front of her.  
Her stomach was just rolling with nervousness. 

"Wherever you think the beginning is." Urahara lightly joked from her other side before Yoruichi gave him a short slap to his nape, causing him to recoil with an embarrassed flinch. 

"Ah-.... R-right..."  
Inoue forced her eyes into a bright crinkle of a default Orihime-smile.  
And then she quickly looked down fearing the tremors in her facial muscles were turning into a dead giveaway, revealing the truth of what she really felt. 

Despite the uneasiness, she took a deep breath and finally started. 

"I first came here because I sensed a really familiar Spiritual Energy, and I was curious about it. That's all it was at the time. Urahara-san and Yoruichi-san... They agreed to bring me into the underground room to show me something when I mentioned that I was drawn here."  
She began slowly. 

That was the easy part.  
She released a tight breath. 

"About that..." Yoruichi leaned into the table with a bracing hold.  
"We never got the chance to tell you. It's footage Kisuke managed to capture and record from orbs we'd acquired in Las Noches. Its primary purpose was to compress surveillance information for later reviewing by Aizen - which we were able to hack into with a few high-level Kidou chants." She pointedly explained.  
"Kisuke and I assumed you had questions about your captivity, and thought perhaps showing you what he found would be a way to talk about it."  


A flash of the Octava Espada taking the gleaming black marble from the Cuatro came to mind, and Inoue's eyes cleared with understanding.  
So this was what Ulquiorra had been placed in charge of.  
These were the orbs he was surrendering to Aizen at the end of each day.  
She'd seen it on more than one occasion.  
Her teeth worried over the cusp of her lip in thought. 

"Only, we realized it was something else that had called you here after all..."  
The sandy-haired man added, raising his smiling eyes and jostling the gadget. 

"Yes, I... I know about the orbs, I've seen them before, with Ulquiorra."  
She lifted her eyes to the scientist.  
"He seals them with his Spiritual Imprint so the rest of the Espada have no access to what's in it, unless it's authorized by Aizen. I... I guess that's what called me here in the first place-"  
She paused with an interrupted jerk as the silver, bleeping gadget swept over her again.  
It rose with a static whine for a moment, the needle beside the handle flicking up to a red '6' before coasting back down to '0'.  
"Interesting..." The man mused, though she wasn't entirely sure what he was referring to at that point.  
The flashing numbers caused another wave of unease to wash over her.  
The girl's eyes moved to Urahara's, whose expression was cleverly hidden under the brim of his striped hat. 

"Go on. Please don't mind the Spirit Particle Analyzer..." The casual voice eased before he finally raised his face with a smile.  
"We simply wanna make sure you're... stable."

The girl's eyes wandered, detecting the minute shifts of movement her friends gave in reaction to Urahara-san's statement.  
Something about the expressions on their faces caused her an instinctive disquiet.  
Something was there... filling the space over their heads, almost like a weighty awkwardness as they squirmed in their seats.

The skin on her arms prickled. 

"Tell us everything... Inoue." A strong clarity broke into the silence.  
The girl looked across the table, meeting with Ichigo's grim gaze.  
He gave her a stony nod of encouragement.  
And she found herself grasping desperately for that invisible strength he always seemed to lend her.  
She mentally clutched it to her and closed her eyes. 

"I blacked out, and when I came to, I... I found myself in Hueco Mundo." She heard herself finally say. 

"Hueco Mundo..." Ichigo repeated with a lowered nod, seemingly unsurprised. 

"And were you in Las Noches?"  
His quiet gruffness was tempered as he cast her a steady gaze. 

"No." She whispered with a shake of head.  
Her eyes left his to distractedly trace the wooden ridges on the table, only barely aware of the gadget doing another clean sweep around her shoulders.  
"I... I was somewhere in the desert and there was a sandstorm. I was standing beside a cluster of short white trees, I don't know if you've ever seen them on the way to Las Noches... But they're bright, and glass-like. Crystal trees. I don't really know how I got there or why, but I-" 

She hesitated, then, and her eyes squeezed shut.  
Uryuu Ishida raised his chin in pregnant pause, with his hand hovering under his face. 

"I was with...-" 

The words caught in her throat as she remembered the Hollow form peeking out at her from behind the thicket of amethyst thorns. 

Her hands gripped at her skirt.  
How was she going to tell them...  
How could she possibly even start to let them know she had helped him. 

"... With Ulquiorra?"  
A carefully controlled inquiry from the one seated in front of her. 

Her eyes darted up to the Substitute Shinigami's hard-set features in brief astonishment, mouth slightly falling open.

"How did you...-" She began. 

The gadget gave a sudden whizzing squeak, startling her.

Inoue turned as Yoruichi leaned in beside Urahara's shoulder, saccharine eyes sweeping over the gauge's readings.  
The girl swallowed seeing a hardened glare come over the dark-skinned woman's face before she lowered back into her chair.  
Ishida-kun had a similarly abrasive expression as he observed the device.  
The amount of scorn she was sensing in the air only served to repress any sort of motivation she willed out of herself.  


If they were all reacting this way because of Ulquiorra...  
Her nails dug into her palms. 

"We felt his Reiatsu in the room with you." Came the even statement of the Archer from beside the orange-haired boy.  
That calculating onyx stare finally snapped away from the gadget, and he settled back into the chair with a cross of arms as he looked at her. 

_Ulquiorra's Reiatsu?_  
Her eyes widened audaciously. Traces of him here in the physical world, in her?  
She expected them to be in the orbs, but to have her friends actually detect it in the room with her...  
Inoue gave him a look of astonishment, unable to utter anything at all. 

"It was all over your own Spiritual Energy when you were unconscious, almost as if it were... a part of you." He hesitantly explained.  
"Part of me?" Came Inoue's tightening rise of a question.  
Her face grew hot for no apparent reason, arms tensing in front of her as she ducked with irrepressible embarrassment. 

Ulquiorra had been around her all this time in her subconscious mind, and she hadn't even thought to question how that affected the human realm?

"Sure was..." Came another lingering confirmation.  
Yoruichi slid a hand under her chin, giving Inoue a narrowed gauging stare.  
Her eyebrows pushed down minutely, and Inoue felt her neck flare under the scrutiny. 

"Urahara-san thought it was gone, at least... until a few minutes before you finally woke up." The Quincy continued, giving her a brief glance before sending the shop-owner a longer prodding tilt of his chin, urging him to explain. 

Inoue slowly turned her gaze to the man, biting her inner cheek with building anxiousness, wondering what had happened to her in this world while she was asleep, and exactly how much they knew... - Because they seemed to be holding back a lot, if she could go by her intuition and their telling faces. 

_You aren't exactly bursting with revelation either, Inoue._  
Came the quiet inner voice. 

The sandy-blonde ex-Captain was giving her a strangely absorbed, almost probing stare to accompany Yoruichi's piercing one.  
And then he finally relented with a brief smile and launched into spontaneous narration. 

"While you were unconscious, I ran a background check on the ten Espada comprising the closest ring of Aizen's army. According to my sources, the Fourth Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer, is supposedly an Arrancar representing the basic totality of 'Nihilism' in life and consequently, in death... which, as Kurosaki-san demanded I explain with more simplicity - though not entirely accurate - means he stands for the idea of 'Nothingness'... -"

Ichigo visibly bristled when Ishida turned away with a smirking nudge to his framed glasses. 

"Yes..." Inoue slowly confirmed.  
"He told me he was born in Nothingness and from Nothingness."

The Substitute Shinigami and the Quincy both turned back to her as she finished. 

"Ahhhh well, he is apparently very good at concealing himself in his 'Nothingness.' Just as suspected, I suppose, for an Arrancar born out of it..."  
The shop-keeper thumbed at his stubble in thought.  
"I assume he is naturally in his element when he uses the void spaces within your consciousness to conceal his Reishi. We have quite a difficult time tracking his signature... That is, until he is prompted to come out of hiding."

The ginger-haired girl's eyebrows rose as Urahara's deceptively dull gaze fell over her. 

"-Which notably happened three times. First, after your Reiatsu had stabilized the morning after you'd blacked out. And then on the second day you were unconscious. And lastly, as Ishida-san mentioned, right before you had awakened..."

Inoue's eyes grew steadily larger, simply soaking in the information.  
She remembered encountering Ulquiorra in the sandstorm, finding him again before calling out Murcielago, and finally feeling his presence in the darkness right before she'd found herself awake. 

Three instances that seemed to match up to the ex-Captain's observations. 

She remained stiff as the man took some time admiring the kitchen tiles over her head in that mildly detached way of his.

"But let us address the most important one of those instances..."  
His voice dropped an octave, and something in the tone maimed her like a paralyzing dart.  
Inoue's breathing seized, watching the shadows fall over the ex-Captain's face.  
And then it lifted away, disappearing as his eyes pushed into their cheery crinkles, betraying the earlier feeling he'd elicited.  
Inoue reacted to the visual disturbance with another small swallow. 

Something about the shop-keeper's unreadable demeanor made her nerves tingle on alert.  
Now that she was the subject of his inquisitive and unpredictable nature, she understood what made him a possibly terrifying enemy.

The man picked up his paper fan, patting it idly to his mouth before finally stilling.  
"I'm curious... Did you by any chance use Shun-Shun Rikka when you found yourself in Hueco Mundo?" Came the subtle inquiry. 

And then his gray gaze slid up to hers, the expression enough to cause a prickle over the hairs on her nape.

Inoue's throat tightened as a small trace of panic seeped into her bones.  
She didn't know why she was suddenly feeling so nervous.  
He was certainly asking all the right questions, and she should rightfully answer them.  
They all deserved to know, and she needed to tell them.  
It was the right thing to do, and there was no harm in it!  
So why was she so scared and unwilling to talk? 

_Just tell them..._  
The small voice in her insisted.  
"I..."  
This is the right thing to do!  
A pressure was lightly pushing into the skin between her collars, wringing a ghosting chill from her.  
_"This... was never about right or wrong."_  
Ulquiorra's sweeping tones echoed. 

At the signs of her reluctance, the man surged single-mindedly.  
"Did you use your power, Inoue-san, perhaps to Reject something?" 

Urahara's eyes had fastened on her.  
The glimpse of the crafty, ingenious being underneath hungering for meaning as it surfaced for air.  
Inoue almost released a strangled sound seeing the voraciously deprived expression.  
Her lips tightened immediately before she could.  
Rukia straightened then, observing a brief flash of something shadowing the ginger-haired girl's eyes.  
Something she somehow felt she shouldn't have seen.  
Her purple eyes descended unthinkingly, fine eyebrows lowering with thought. 

"Just get to the point, Urahara-san."  
The strawberry blonde harshly urged, eyes flitting uncomfortably from the girl's vulnerable, crumbling composure.  
"Just tell her."

At that statement, the girl's eyes snatched up.  
Her heart began to hasten in stuttered beats, hands gravitating together with linked fingers beginning to tightly curl under the table. 

_Tell me what?_  
_Oh, god, what have I done..._

Urahara seemed not to hear the Substitute Shinigami.  
His eyes were glinting like bright steel, analyzing her expressions and body language as he continued to observe her. 

Ichigo faltered seeing his friend writhe.  
She looked absolutely spooked by the man's questioning.  
If he squeezed any tighter, Ichigo felt she'd just pop.

Damn it, they obviously needed some leverage here.

Do something.  
He snorted unthinkingly, trying to deflect the tension that was rapidly descending over the room.  
A quick subject change to give her a breather. 

"Y'know, Inoue, we had to haul these two over because they wouldn't stop asking about you?"  
Ichigo's declaration to the rafters successfully caught her shaken gaze.  
"Heh!"  
He slapped a palm lightly into the table and smirked. "- Once they came back from their Rukongai assignments, they practically shoved their reports into Byakuya's face and flew across the Senkaimon..."  
He stuck a thumb out at Renji's crumbling glare and nodded a chin at Rukia. 

The purple-eyed Reaper straightened and gave a few blinks, clearly caught off-guard.  
"A-..."  
And then her face immediately shifted and she broke into an exaggerated pout.  
"-O... Of course we were worried!"  
She hastened with an announcement, giving the shield-user a puckered look before breaking out into a smile. 

The Vice Captain turned his head with a shake of sharp red spikes and snorted a grin.  
"Sure!" He waved a hand in the air dismissively.  
"But I'm also here to represent the 6th Division." That voice lowered. 

The lighter traction in the room suddenly plummeted and Inoue's eyebrows rose.  
"Soul Society?" She whispered with a tightening breath. 

Rukia swiveled in her seat and sent the red-haired man a chastising nudge of squinted eyes.  
He merely raised an eyebrow at her and re-crossed his arms, refusing to relent with his own light-heartedness.

"Hah! That's rich, Renji. If anyone represents Byakuya, it's obviously her."  
Ichigo shot back pompously, nudging his head in the smaller Kuchiki's direction.  
"Wha-..." The tall man stuttered, reddening suddenly.  
"Yo, in case you've been smacked over the head one too many times, dolt, you're speaking to his Lieutenant!" 

"The point." Yoruichi stated impatiently, directing everyone's attention back to the table.  
Chad lowered his head and gave a discreet sigh as Renji pushed out a caustic glower.  
"Bastard." He muttered under his breath sulkily.  
"Urahara-san... Please continue."  
Ishida's eyebrow was ticking again. 

The man had pulled back, reverting to his default cheeriness. 

"Ahhh-ha-ha, well, moving along Inoue-san..."  
The shop-keeper lightly chortled, folding his hands across the table.  
"I'm asking about your Power of Negation because, you see, when you were asleep you somehow managed to use Shun-Shun Rikka to restore the Fourth Espada's sword!"

There was an all-too-sudden silence that fell over everything in the room as the big reveal greeted the shield-user. 

Ichigo gave a blink, his mouth opening slightly at the abruptness he'd admittedly wanted, before sending the girl a worried glance.  
She was ramrod straight and speechless, with her eyes round as planets.  
"Inoue..." He started, before closing his mouth, not knowing how to proceed. 

The girl just sat there, a complete bewilderment beginning to overtake her face until a semblance of awareness returned, sending her sinking shoulders back into her chair.  
"I-I..." She stuttered, grasping for words.  
_It's just as Murcielago said..._  
She couldn't believe it.  
An internal hodgepodge of emotions were threatening to spill over.  
It was possibly the first time she'd experienced a simultaneous dreaded horror and bursting happiness that resounded in tandem.  
And then the guilt came, squelching everything.  
Oh, she was so messed up.  
... Feeling this way was just so wrong. 

Ichigo held his breath.  
And then his insides clenched and he quickly drew back because he was seeing the girl's eyes starting to fill with moisture.  
Inoue's lip scrunched precariously with a quiver.  
That forehead wrinkling with profound helplessness, her face beginning to contort with the weight of emotion.

Oh, shit.  
Oh, no.  
He hated seeing her cry. 

"Inoue, listen... It's not your fault, alright?" He rushed to console his friend.  
His eyes brightened valiantly for her as he leaned in.  
"You were unconscious! You didn't kno-"

"- I did. I knew. I called my shield."  
Each confession was a spilling gasp of admission, her face burying deeper into her hands with succeeding delivery until she was finally cracking under the guilt. 

He felt a blanket of numbness fall over him.  
_What..._  
The boy pushed back with a slow blink. 

"I-I was a-aware... of...- of everything. I knew I was b-bringing him... _back._ "  
A choke on the last word.  
"... It was my decision to do it." She admittedly whimpered.  
Ichigo's nerves went cold and the girl, seeing the heartbreaking reaction, finally began sobbing. 

"... What do you mean." Ishida's slow drag of voice descended over the table as the strawberry blonde slumped back into his chair with a faltering expression and a suspended breath in his chest.  
"There's gotta be a good reason for your decision..." Ichigo's voice was faint as his gaze wavered over the table.  
"You had to have been forced to do it.-" He finally looked at her.  
"... right, Inoue?" The boy's question chased a breathy laugh.

"I..." A flash of guilt came over her eyes.  
His stomach dipped.  
"No, I wasn't forced to do it." She finally said, breaking away from his crumpled stare.

"Wow..." The Vice Captain muttered gruffly, though his eyes searched the shield-user, still refusing to believe the implication of all of this.  
Chad dropped so far back, the two of them teetered off-balance when the stove he'd braced over gave a shrill creak and slid towards the wall. 

"Inoue-san..." Rukia could only breathe, her twin collars rising with slow pause as she touched a hand to the folds of her robed chest.  
"I don't understand."  
She shook her head slowly.  
"Why."

Urahara pulled back, unsurprised, holding the Spirit Particle Analyzer out to Yoruichi.  
The purple-haired woman wordlessly took it with narrowed eyes, scanning the information running through it. 

"There's a good reason for this." Ichigo's voice had hardened insistently. 

"Well, Inoue-san. Would you _like_ to tell us more?" The man purposely stressed the word.  
The girl turned to the shop-keeper with so much guilt on her face, he almost berated himself for pushing her in such a cutting way. 

"Is it just Murcielago...? What about him-" Came her faltering hiccup. 

Another complete silence came over the room to the lifts of more eyebrows, as the ginger-haired girl wiped at her tear-stained face, distractedly searching Urahara for any clues despite her jerked breaths.  
Ichigo stared at her speechlessly, unable to even will himself to reach out to those trembling shoulders to comfort her. 

"Just his sword...?" She repeated pitifully, wiping a fresh tear that had slipped unbidden. 

"Yes." The shop-keeper's voice was distant as he gave her an arbitrarily calm stare.

" 'Just' his sword?" Ichigo slowly echoed into the room with a clash of eyebrows.  
Something in her tone told him that she was expecting more.  


He wasn't dense.  
Because she was so readable, it even seemed as if she _wanted_ there to be more.  
His stomach did an ugly twist and he felt a roil of subtle nausea come over him as he struggled to discern her.  
... Did she actually want Ulquiorra back?  
His composure sank with a quaver.  
After everything they'd done to get rid of the Arrancar...?  
A jarring sensation lanced through his chest and he forcibly shoved the forming suspicions from his mind. 

His mouth opened before he could stop himself.  
"I know... it wasn't a fair fight, and it wasn't really considered a win but... do you really-"  
His voice trailed off brokenly, not knowing how to continue. 

Her eyes snatched up to his, frantically distraught, and she bit at her trembling lip as he instinctively avoided her gaze.  
"Ku-... Kurosaki-kun-" It came out a sob.  
A pained expression came over him as he openly fought the confusion and disbelief, and slowly rising resentment.  
His mouth worked trying to form words to question her as the cords of his forearms tightened with the urge to grab her shoulders. 

"Inoue..." He finally managed with a slow shake of his head.  
"Why..." It came out almost weak.  
Placid, despite the tumultuous sea of emotion rising up his throat. 

The ginger-haired girl sent him a beseeching look.  
"Please, Kurosaki-kun... I-... It's... it's not that I wanted...-"

His eyebrows lifted hopefully, hearing that last word.  
And then she stopped, drawing back from the table.  
Because she knew she was lying to them, to herself.  
She was undoubtedly a traitor here and he... - They were all her friends.  
And even if she knew they would hate her, that she could possibly be digging herself into a hole for Soul Society to simply convict her, she would have to explain. 

They deserved that much and she would be honest. 

"I felt him." She finally whispered.  
"What do you mean by that exactly...?" The Quincy leaned forward. 

"-Did he do things to you, Inoue?" The low growl swiftly cut in.  
The orange-haired boy's fists had balled again, refusing to lose faith in his friend, fearing she had somehow been under his control, because that was the only reason why Inoue would ever...  
Ichigo's face darkened as all the sick possibilities entered his mind.  
"Did he hurt you?" His jaw tightly clenched  
"Is that why? Did he physically force you?" He gave her a controlled stare, reining in what he could of the brimming anger. 

"He... No- Please, it wasn't like that-" She found herself saying in the Cuatro's defense. 

_Liar._

Her chest tightened and she bit at her lip.  
She was lying, wasn't she.  
She was protecting Ulquiorra. 

A flash of the Cuatro's mouth on hers, his hands tightening into her hair.  
Her sobs and their breaths hitching in the dark.  
An image of him deflecting Kurosaki-kun's Getsuga Tenshou.  
His face turning to her.

More conflicting tears came to her eyes. 

"Did he say things and threaten you to make you want to bring him back, is that it?"  
Rukia leaned in with large, questioning eyes. 

"No!" Inoue reacted much too defensively.  
The female shinigami flinched, suddenly bothered.  


_Liar._ The inner voice whispered.

 _"Do as I say. Or you will be forced to watch their demise."_  
His pupils piercing into hers, thinning into poisonous slits.  
_"Have you already given it to me? Your heart?"_  
Those dangerously nimble fingers sliding up the thin folds of her dress.  
_"..Do I already have it...?"_  
That mouth lingering over hers. 

Her eyes closed.  
She _had_ been manipulated.  
... But that didn't even matter to her anymore.  
It was almost impossible to rationalize why she'd made this decision.  
At the same time, it was emotionally taxing and painful because she was undoubtedly alone in it and everyone that mattered was aggressively against it. 

Everything that happened only served to weaken her case.

It was bad enough that she lacked the tenacity to confidently pursue what she wanted without the support of her friends.  
She wasn't like Ichigo, who possessed the charisma and unbending will to earn whole armies of allegiance.  
All she had to her - And it was her greatest pride and strength - was the limitless forgiveness and willingness to love encompassing her heart. 

Her hands clenched to her chest as she looked at their varying expressions of disbelief and sadness.

"You just... don't understand yet..." She looked at them weakly.  
" _We_ don't understand?" Ichigo's voice rose incredulously, stinging her.  
Ishida's eyebrows pushed together as he tightened his mouth. 

"Ulquiorra... I-... It's hard to believe, but I... I trust him." She fumbled, glancing at them.  
" _Trust_ him?" The orange-haired boy disbelievingly spat out, completely insulted now.  
His eyes were the essence of burning embers, pushing away from the table with a sharp drag of his chair.  
"I was not expecting that..." Ishida whispered with a staggered blink.  
Rukia could only stare with a slightly opened mouth. 

"Inoue, I don't get what's going on, but are you hearing yourself?!" Ichigo's voice soared as he paced.  
The boy shook his head, ejecting a haughty breath of disbelief, sending the kitchen wall a caustic stare before looking back at her.  
The searing hurt was all over his face as he latched on to the head of the chair with whitened knuckles, struggling with his undirected frustration. 

"Please..." She could only bleat ineffectively, curling into herself seeing the expression.  
"Please just believe me..." Came the shaky plea.  
"How can you say you _trust_ someone like that?"  
Rukia's voice rose, horrified, breaking into the rising tension.  
"I agree." Came the low conclusion of the raven-haired boy to back her up. 

The Quincy gave Inoue an angered look before lowering his glare to the table.  
"Inoue-san... What your saying is really hard to digest. Why do you want to bring the Fourth Espada back?"  
He asked it with forced calmness, even as his composure wavered. 

"I know him..." Inoue fervently said, causing the bespectacled man to frown even more.  
"I _know_ him, what he's like deep inside. In Hueco Mundo, in my mind, he showed me - I saw through his eyes and I felt... I felt how painful his existence was. And how empty. "  
Her words simply failed her, and she could see its futility as her reasoning fell over confused, shaken faces.  
"In your mind, he was speaking to you." Ishida repeated, tone flat and disagreeable as he clenched his fingers over the edge of the table.  
"Is he speaking now, Inoue-san?"  
"What?" She whispered.  
His onyx eyes were distrustful, scrutinizing her mercilessly, though not without a slight trace of regret.  
"Is she being controlled...?" The female shinigami slowly turned away alarmed, to face the shop-keeper. 

"Urahara-san, maybe-..."

"No!" Inoue cried with torn hurt, her gaze flitting between her friends.  
"I'm completely aware of everything. Please, I'm not being controlled!"  
She gasped, pressing her curled fingers to her chest. 

"She's right. Nothing is controlling her." Yoruichi's purple eyes gave the device in her hand another brief glance.  
"Go on, Inoue-san..." She prompted stiffly. 

"Please..." Inoue started, pushing splayed fingers to the surface of the table.  
"It's not his fault he turned out that way... In a place like that, you couldn't survive without throwing away your heart. I wish you could have felt what I did-... Ulquiorra was _suffering_!"

She could only send each of them a dire look, trying to make them see. 

Rukia eyed her hesitantly before she leaned in.  
"Still he is what he is, Inoue-san... A soldier of Aizen. An enemy. You can't trust someone like an Arrancar." She whispered harshly, purple eyes growing colder. 

"I know that. More than anyone..." Inoue insisted passionately.  
"But I also _know_ he can be a good person. His last words were that he finally understood-... I'm su-"

"- A 'good' person. You're kidding, right?" The severe question finally erupted from the hot-head gracing the corner of the kitchen.  
"You're talking about a Hollow! He wouldn't know what 'good' was if it kicked him in the nuts."  
Abarai Renji pushed away from his post and took a step forward with an irate clash of eyebrows.  
"The three of you barely got out of there alive." He sharply reminded her.

"I know what this sounds like-" The girl struggled to reason. 

"Yeah, it sounds a lot like bullshit! C'mon-"  
The fiery-haired man pushed an arm out at Ichigo pointedly, causing her to flinch.  
"... One of you wasn't even supposed to make it! This one literally _died_ up there, Inoue-san. To save you. And you say you _trust_ the ruthless fuck that fired the hole through his chest?!" His voice rose, outraged.  
"Don't you think something is clearly wrong with how you're seeing all this?"

Inoue's eyes filled with more tears. 

"Renji..." The purple-eyed Shinigami gave him a pleading look.  
"Hold on a second and calm down." 

"Calm down? No..." The Vice Captain shook his head, looking down at Inoue with equal hurt on behalf of the human boy who'd admittedly become a close friend.  
"I don't wanna seem like the rude one here, I know you brought Ichigo back... But something must have screwed you up while you were sleeping... Hell, it's probably still fucking with you judging from how much nonsense I've heard so far... I can't believe this crap." He growled, turning away when Rukia rested a hand over his forearm.

"Renji." Ichigo pushed a hand on his shoulder.  
"Stop." He said, refusing to look at her, or anyone. 

Inoue shrank in on herself at the hurtful words.  
She looked down at her cold tea, the cup beginning to blur as another large tear fell, catching at the yellow light and pelting into the wood. 

"Inoue-san, I'm sure you know we're all really surprised hearing all this..."  
Chad had approached the table, arms gentling by his sides.  
"Understatement of the year." Renji tossed a robed arm up.  
Ishida gave the ginger-haired girl a worried glance, utterly speechless. 

"I'll listen to what you have to say..." Chad finally murmured, giving her a patient look.  
"Please continue."  
They all lifted their heads to the usually silent man. 

Inoue looked at Chad tearfully. 

"I understand... you must all hate me..." She slowly whispered.  
"I really don't blame you. I deserve all of it..."  
The shield user gave a knowing nod, dropping her eyes.  
Her face bowed in shame and she forced a swallow before continuing.  
"I-... I'm a traitor, and after... all of you... trusted me."  
Her face contorted and she pushed her shoulders down as she stifled her bodily heaves when her throat jerked with more sobs. 

Chad's mouth tightened seeing her fall apart.  
Even Ichigo spared her a glance of concern. 

"Y-.. you all came to rescue me, and I ... I'd never been so happy. I was so happy. I felt so loved... by all of you..."  
She squeezed the shaking words out with a pained smile.  
"I...- I couldn't ask for better friends, and how grateful I am to even fight alongside you all... How much everything we've been through means to me... Rescuing Kuchiki-san and knowing how hard it is... how frightened you must all have been... and you don't _know_ how conflicted I feel inside... How much it really hurts me to know I'm undoing what you tried so hard to finish... I know how much you've sacrificed for me, you almost died just to get me out of there... And to think even Soul Society risked what they had... for someone like me- A... human... I'm beyond ashamed!" Inoue's breath hitched.

She bowed her head with tightly shut eyes.  
"To know I'm giving you all this trouble, it makes my heart hurt so much!" The girl cried. 

Rukia's eyes moistened and she looked up at Renji almost guiltily.  
He turned away, torn, with a hardened jaw. 

"And especially... after what happened to Kurosaki-kun. He sacrificed the most! And I know I'm being disgraceful... I-... I-...hate that I'm doing this but I feel, I just feel I have to do it."  
Her voice grew firm despite the quakes that churned.  
"I know in my heart, I'm the only one who can. I have the power to _help_ him! I'm the only one who can save him. And not doing anything about it... I-..."

The girl didn't realize Rukia's hand land gently on her shoulder.  
She swiped at the tears, distractedly. 

"Ulquiorra... He's not as cruel as you think... He protected me, even when the other Arrancar wanted to experiment on me, or use me as bait to anger Kurosaki-kun, or wanted to just kill me because they think I'm nothing but a pet! Ulquiorra... fought them for me..." She lifted her tear-stained cheeks.  
"He's the enemy, I know... But he's misunderstood, because of his Hollow nature... He's broken and I just want to give him a chance... I-I just want to fix him." Came the painful crack in her voice. 

"Please believe me, please let me fix him..." Inoue's palms rose, pressing into her face.  
"Please trust me..." She whispered dryly into the spaces of her hands, unable to look at them.  
"Everyone..."  
She squeezed her eyes shut. 

_Please..._  
The chant fell into the confines of her mind.  
_Please._  
A swirl of green flickered in the darkness before fading away. 

And then arms had wrapped around the back of her head and pulled her to solidity.  
She hitched on a sob and raised her eyes, meeting with Ichigo's lowered gaze.

"... Inoue, That's enough." He whispered guiltily, expression softening.  
Her gray irises moved over his face, heart briefly squeezing at the slowly surfacing forgiveness she found touching the corners of his eyes.  
His gaze relented and he gave a small sigh of a breath and a curl of his mouth.  
Inoue's lips trembled, moist from the tracks of her tears.  
"Kurosaki-kun..." The name squeezed out of her tightly.

"Inoue... You're just too damn nice for your own good." He muttered, snorting.  
...  
"I'm so sorry..." Came her fervent cry as she buried into him gratefully. 

Ishida gave a low sigh, trying to release the heavy weight threatening to crush his chest.  
He wasn't quite as emotional on the outside as the rest of them.  
Perhaps he'd inherited that stiff composure from his father.  
Seeing his friend crumble under the weight of her conflict though, his suspicions had slowly evaporated, replaced with the loyalties of his heart to her, and to their bond.

He leaned into the chair and eyed the shop-keeper, suddenly at a loss.  
Urahara minutely tipped his head at him, expression unreadable, before he rose out of the chair and discreetly clopped his way out of the room. 

Ichigo continued to silently stand there as the shield-user wept a damp mess into his shirt.  
"Alright, Inoue..." He softly cajoled with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder.

"Stop crying. We got it."

His perceptiveness soon bristled and the boy looked up, meeting unexpectedly with Yoruichi's yellow gaze.  
The woman slung an arm over her raised knee, giving him a lopsided smile before she pushed herself off her stool and headed for the door. 

\---

Urahara was rapidly typing into his personal computer when the dark-skinned woman's form appeared, lingering over the shadowy confines of his bedroom. 

Yoruichi briefly eyed the corners hidden away behind boxes and neglected, half-completed equipment.  
She'd seldom followed him in here because of how cords and parts managed to spring out at her from random crevices, on more than one occasion shocking her, with literal electricity.  
On days like today, when they needed all the building capacity to predict a situation, she more feared accidentally stepping on something and destroying it with her unusually brutal strength.  
Seeing as it was more 'organized' this evening, though, she risked an approach and took a step over the landing, eyeing the floors for anything strewn about. 

The man hadn't even bothered turning on the light.  
Typical.  
She slung an arm across one half-opened cabinet and watched him single-mindedly weather away at the keys. 

"What do you think?" She finally broke into the darkness, nudging a toe out at a stray cable raising its plastic head at her. 

"Oh, she's telling the truth... the way she sees it, at least." He candidly mused from his quilted floor mat, looking up briefly and giving her a smile. 

"If anything," Urahara's eyes descended to the monitor.  
"-running that brain and body scan yesterday shows us there is absolutely no mind-controlling device planted in her, and nothing physically different in her human composition. She's completely healthy, at least by corporeal terms..." 

The typing resumed with a few taps in between as he entered information and minutely scrolled.  
"Which is why you're here... Because something else is bothering you." The purple-haired woman guessed, giving a tilting swish of her ponytail as she thumped in and handed him the Spirit Particle Analyzer.

He took it and immediately plugged it into a cable, running the latest statistics over one glowing green window.  
A finger left the mouse to tap idly at the table before rising to graze at chin stubble. 

"Her psychological state needs to be watched, don't you think?" The man gave a careless lift of shoulders.  
"She's obviously distraught!"  
For all the exaggerated vigor thrown into that statement, Yoruichi almost knew the man was lightly poking fun at the poor girl.  
He was surprisingly cruel sometimes. 

The Shunko user lowered her gauze-wrapped legs next to him, folding with one knee curled to her chest.  
Her amber eyes briefly scanned the screen from beside the taller man's shoulder. 

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Inoue Orihime just has an all-nurturing empathic nature and too much naivety? She _is_ young."  
The woman blatantly stated with a flash of teasing incisors.

"Going by the probability theory? It holds. Her behavior is admittedly predictable."  
The shop-keeper thumbed distractedly along one sharp jawline as the speakers of the computer gave a discreet ping.  
"Ah, but..." His eyes slid up to hers, and the woman saw a flash of that alter ego surface with a sliver before it disappeared.  
"- one mustn't let go of 'improbable' possibilities to consider... after ruling out the impossible. In fact, I probably shouldn't let 'impossible' slip past me either. These things can be calculated, realistically and theoretically."  
He pondered with a touch of humor.

Yoruichi swatted airily at his blathering.  
"Spare me the details and cut to the chase, what's bothering you?"

"The idea that emotional attachments are involved. If I had to guess... The improbable possibility: A reciprocal relationship between them, bordering on one-sided affection. He relies on her by manipulating her to Negate his demise, and she believes every single word because of her innocence. And the impossible: He _feels_... as she does. And believe me, _nothing_ would be more interesting to me than that."  
He gave a merry laugh, eyes sweeping the screen and the endless jargon coursing down the opened window. 

"Y'know what's improbable?" Yoruichi asked loudly, turning to him.  
"The idea she'll ever stop blushing around Ichigo to consider that." 

The man gave a light chuckle that once again alleviated the earlier drama.

"She's a sensible girl." The woman quipped.  
"Maybe a little too self-sacrificial in this case... But sensible. For now, we can rely on that."  
The girl gave a wink and he returned a good-natured smile, conceding. 

"Eitherway, the case is clear that we need the Fourth Espada's full cooperation to be able to separate him from Inoue-san. If Ulquiorra relies on her to bring him back, then this all works to our advantage, and we can worry about the rest of it later."  
The man's eyes narrowed as he spoke, though the woman wasn't quite so sure if it was because of what he was seeing on the screen, or if it was the many versions of a scenario playing out in his mind.

"You mean to take advantage of Inoue-san's current emotional state..." Yoruichi deadpanned, with a curl of her lip.  
There was only ever the smallest twitch of his mouth in response.  
"You...-" Came the growl. She wound her fist and swung, giving the back of his head a stiff smack.  
"Owwww!" The man's chin almost landed on his keyboard. 

"I can't believe you, Kisuke!" 

The man pushed back up and gave his hat a good rub as he winced.  
"We've tried every other thing to bring that Arrancar out while she was unconscious, you know that... He's more stubborn than your Shunshin Chohenge* cat-form on a bath-day. If you have a better idea that's guaranteed, I'm all ears!" He almost whined pitifully.  
"Don't talk about that form..." Her voice dropped coldly.  
"- Ever. You know I hate it."  
He frowned as she whipped her head away sulkily. 

And then the room grew quiet until the computer gave another ding entirely too loud, moments later.  
Urahara fired with more typing.

"She'll want to see the sword, you know."  
The girl broke into the silence after a while, sending the rumpled face beside her a tilted look.

"I know." Came the ex-Captain's reply.  
"... Which is why its been moved."  
A slow lift of his mouth. 

There was a pause that descended before another string of typing chased it away.  
The girl's eyes closed as she sighed, resting a cheek on his bicep.

"It might all be according to his plan. Even if he is locked up, Kisuke... What if-"  
The statement trailed off, a gruffness wrapping around the woman's hesitant tone as it fell over one ear. 

A longer pause before he hit 'enter.'  
"... I know." He whispered - sincerely this time. 

Yoruichi's eyes opened, pupils idly tracing the roughened planes of the man's chiseled jaw.  
He finally gave her a sideways look, a lit gaze in the dark lowering briefly over her lengthy eyelashes before his attention lifted back to the glow of the screen. 

"... Why do you think I'm here working on countermeasures..." A lighter tone replaced it.  
"-I've already devised a plan." He grinned boyishly.  
That small, adorable indent next to his chin highlighted by the harsh screen. 

"Oh?" Came the subtle lift of inquiry as the woman nodded in the monitor's direction.  
"Since when was chatting to Kurotsuchi Mayuri considered 'working on countermeasures'?" She raised a curious eyebrow.  
"Since we agreed to loan Murcielago to him for analysis, in exchange for a pardon on our Forbidden Kidou violations trying to seal it."  
The man cracked another smaller smile.  
"Technically, as you know," He continued lackadaisically, "-An offense remains questionable in the human realm if it is done for the sake of containing a crisis, or saving a human being."

A ding.

"So that's how you and Tessai managed to skip a trial." She drawled.  
"But... Kurotsuchi Mayuri and you are like oil and water."  
"... Sure that isn't us, Yoruichi?" He gave a lilting grin of amusement.  
She snorted, purposely dangling an arm over his nape until she'd wound it around, almost strangling him with a headlock.  
"What do you call this, then? I adhere to you just fine, Kisuke."  
She leaned in, peeking into the shadows under the brim.  
"More like, you're oil and I'm fire." The woman smirked, giving the side of Urahara's hat a fond little tug. 

He looked up at the light-less ceiling with a suck of a breath as the woman's fingers tangled into the awry flaxen strands beside his ear. 

"Hmm, that's actually quite accurate, isn't it..."  
His tone was misleadingly naive.  
Breaths lingered in the space between them as he lapsed into thoughts of the matter at hand, his hat still comically skewed to one side. 

Without warning, she gave his adam's apple a sharp flick and he choked on a cough, shielding feebly at the sensitive skin as he sent her a faltering cringe.  
"Yoruichi..." A dry rasp.  
"Buffoon."  
The sounds of the woman's laughter echoed faintly down the hallway.

\---

Inoue slumped against the back of her chair, suddenly worn from all the crying she'd been doing in and out of her dreams.  
She hadn't realized how cold she'd gotten until a new cup was placed in front of her.  
By Abarai-kun, of all people.  
She meekly cast him a look from under her eyelashes and he turned away, still mildly irate.  
"Thank you..." She whispered, causing his expression to gentle somewhat.

"Someone learned the ropes when he roomed-in." Rukia smiled, trying to lighten the mood.  
"What do you expect? I don't like sitting around doing nothing like an ingrate. Besides, calling me a 'freeloader' was getting to me." He muttered, leaning a hip over the smaller Shinigami's chair.  
Ishida sent him a look. "I did offer one of the hospital backrooms for rent."  
"And have your Quincy father murder me in my sleep? No, thanks. Besides, the point was not to spend a cent." He raised his tattooed eyebrows.  
"You don't have cents. Hence, the term 'freeloader.'" Rukia teased with a wiggle of eyebrows.  
"Says the outstanding tenant who pays her monthly dues in drawings." The Vice Captain drawled, earning another smack to the gut.

Inoue looked down at the contents of her steaming new cup with a smile.  
This time, it was water with a slice of lemon forcibly pushed into the rim.  
Her insides craved the heat and she realized that the earlier exhaustion had drained all the warmth from her body, replacing it with a clammy chill.  
She took a grateful sip, her tongue catching the tangy acidity that fragrantly laced the water. 

"Inoue..." 

The shield-user quickly looked to the boy who'd seated himself in front of her.  
His collapsed shoulders told her he was just as completely spent as she was.  
All the fight had seemingly left him.  
Those previously bright golden eyes had dulled to a light brown as they briefly swept over her face.  


"Do you really think you can bring Ulquiorra back?"  


His voice reflected the look he wore.  
A resigned solemnity that sounded robbed of any other choice.

Her mouth twisted in reaction, causing a dimpling along the side of one cheek.  
She pushed her hands together and looked down.  
"I don't really know." Her voice filled the space between them, quiet.

After everything she'd been through and what happened in her inner consciousness, she didn't know how to even begin.  
But Murcielago's words echoed in her mind, and she found herself latching on to nothing but that little hint he'd left for her, that she would see him again, his 'shattered souls', that she would get her answer soon.  
And it seemed as if her friends had, in the meantime anyway, decided to simply fall back after seeing her raw emotional breakdown. 

"I don't know, but I want to... to try." She said with a small bite of shame. 

Ichigo was looking almost wearily at the table top with an arm braced in front of him.  
He ran his fingers over his cropped orange locks and finally exhaled.  
The very picture of someone who'd been let down.  
She'd seen the posture and mannerisms before, and it happened whenever circumstances forcibly squeezed him into a tight corner. 

... Which is why his next words surprised her. 

"If you do, Inoue... And he's exactly as he was - I don't think I can allow him to live."  
His eyes rose.  
A slow panic seized her insides as the boy's jaw visibly tightened.  
For a moment, Inoue stared at him, her breath having snagged gracelessly in her throat.  
While the rest of them had gone quiet, sending both orange-haired friends collapsed glances. 

And then, to the girl's relief, Urahara shattered the suffocating moment.  
Coasting back into the kitchen with a billow of green robes and a finger nudging at his hat.  
"Helloooo everyone-" He grandly declared, as if he hadn't just been in the room half an hour ago.  
"Sorry about that, an idea struck me and I needed to get to work on it right away!"  
Yoruichi reappeared at the doorway with a hand slung to her hip as she perused them.  
Ichigo looked up wordlessly.  
"Inoue-san... I'll make this brief."  
The shop-keeper pushed himself into the chair with a short sigh and angled his face at her, unfazed.  


"Truth be told, I unfortunately can't agree with your sentiments. I'm sure none of us see a reason to trust the Fourth Espada right now."

Her heart sank almost immediately.

"However-!" He quickly raised a forefinger.  
"Regardless of our conflicting views, I do agree that you need to bring him back..."  
Inoue slowly looked at him, eyes catching a glimmer of light from the kitchen ceiling.  
"Urahara-san..." She whispered hopefully.  
"After all," The man gave a shrug as he smiled.  
"It's the only way we can make sure he's completely separated from your body! Anything else doesn't really matter at this point..."

The rest of them pulled back with newfound understanding. 

"Having said that, Yoruichi, if you'd be so kind..." The sandy-haired man cajoled. 

At the signal, the woman came to the table.  
They watched her hands lower over the cherry-wood surface, revealing four black bands in her palm.  
She placed the rubber-enforced bracelets in the center before sliding into her own chair.

"I'm sure you'll want to go home and manage the things you've left behind the past three days..."  
The shop-keeper continued to narrate as the friends all zoomed in on the accessories.

"In the meantime, please take these with you and keep them no more than 2 meters away at all times, especially when you sleep..."

"What are they?" Inoue whispered, touching at one. 

It seemed to glint in response, until she realized it wasn't in her mind at all.  
The flat rubber sides coasted with laser streaks of green that ran across the ringed-surface before disappearing the instant her finger left it. 

"They're Reishi limiting armbands, designed to detect a large presence of Ulquiorra's Spiritual Signature. Once it notes high activity, it will relay the information to my computer before instantly latching on to the source of concentration to control it to a level that is relatively harmless..."  
The man amiably explained, tapping at each band separately. 

"Each of these will automatically be applied, depending on how powerful his energy still is after it exits your body. Four can contain the absolute totality of his form, according to Kurotsuchi Mayuri's analysis. Once three have been activated, that will send me a distress signal. So just be prepared for door repairs in case we have to break our way into your house, okay?"  
The man gave her a good-natured wink, to her horror.  
Her forehead wrinkled as she pulled back.  
She'd better wear decent flannel pajamas in the next few nights, then.

"Please understand, it's the only way we can keep an eye on this situation and ensure your safety without having to force you to stay here. Lest you don't mind us following you around like stalkers!"  
He gave a lighthearted chuckle then, and the girl found herself glancing down at the accessories again in curiosity.

"Does this mean... I can really... physically bring Ulquiorra back?" She softly asked, not missing the way Ichigo's eyes narrowed. 

"We don't know the answer to that, unfortunately... Until his Reiatsu separates from yours." Yoruichi provided. 

"What if we ask Inoue to use her Rikka now, to try it." Ishida suggested.

The dark-skinned woman shook her head.  
"According to our observation, Inoue's Shun-Shun Rikka needs to be conjured when she is unconscious. That's the only way she can directly establish a connection with the presence lurking there, and the reason why we openly speak now."

Inoue didn't particularly like how the Shunko user referred to Ulquiorra as a 'lurking' presence - As if he were some dark, ominous, unwanted thing.

_Only he is, after all. And they have every right to feel that way._

She'd have to agree to this, the only glimpse of hope she had to ever gain their cooperation.  
But what would the repercussions be?  
What would they do if she succeeded and Ulquiorra physically manifested in the human realm?  
He'd have to prove himself then, she realized. 

The girl sent her first love a glance, noting that he wasn't looking at her, but instead directing a seething glare into the table, almost trying to physically burn a hole into the wood. 

Ulquiorra would have to convince her he'd changed, first and foremost.  
But he'd have an even harder time, after that, convincing everyone else.

Especially, Kurosaki-kun, who still harbored every intent to murder him. 

Until then, he might as well be sticking his neck over a log, with an axe hovering over him.  
And she wouldn't be able to do anything but watch if this was all a big show of his poisonous words after all.  
She wouldn't have a choice, and they'd dealt with her ridiculous decision already.  
Inoue could only do so much if the Arrancar was truly as evil as everyone made him out to be, and she turned out to be wrong after all.  
Taking the chance was her best bet...  
No.  
It was her only option.  
And to have them willing to help her was more than she could have wished for. 

"I'll do it."  
The friends looked up at her as she slowly took the bands and pocketed them.  
"Thank you, Urahara-san, Yoruichi-san..." Her eyes brightened gratefully. 

And then Inoue's warm gaze landed on each of them.  
"Everyone..." She whispered tenderly.  
"I... I'm sorry I cause you so much trouble and anger... I... I really am the worst."  
Her voice cracked with sudden emotion.

"Inoue-san-" Rukia's voice surprisingly pierced the air.  
"We just want you to be safe, really! The Arrancar are just _that_ dangerous." She quickly said, giving her a worried glance.

"Aa." Renji answered begrudgingly. "And if anything goes wrong, you can expect some of us at your place. So unlatch the windows and doors the moment you think you're in trouble..." The mumble dwindled off as he folded his arms into his sleeves. 

"You know we'll be there to protect you." Chad quietly confirmed.  
Ishida gave a wry smile and nodded, nudging at his glasses.  
"Obviously. That's the way it's always been."

The girl felt a genuinely heartfelt smile breaking her features and her face softened.

Ichigo leaned in to the table last, giving her a hesitant look. 

"What I said stands... But for now, I just want that Reiatsu out and away from you, Inoue. If he hurts you, I won't hesitate. I swear."  
His teeth clenched with suppressed anger.  
"I'll give that bastard hell." Came the seething growl.

"I know..." Her eyes moved over his face.  
"Thank you... for caring so much, Kurosaki-kun."  
She felt the familiar heat assault her cheeks but forced herself to smile wider, regardless of how she must have looked.  
Perhaps, a part of her had accepted he would always elicit that sort of reaction. 

Ichigo flinched and looked away with a snort.

"Yeah, yeah..." His eyes lowered.  
"It's a given, Inoue. You know that." Came the fierce bite of a murmur. 

She fought the urge to push a hand over his tightened fist, instead slipping it decidedly under the table to grasp at a knee.  


\- _"I won't lose!"_  
The strawberry-blonde's voice lanced with hollered determination into her mind. 

His warm hand taking her wrist and pulling her behind him,  
His black Shinigami robes billowing with the bluish white strength of his Reiatsu,  
His battle-ready smirk matching equally confident eyes casting her a look from behind one broad shoulder...  


_"I promise you, Inoue." ___

 _"I will protect you."_ Came the echo, overlapping strangely, separating.  
For a moment, the voice had changed into his low, fluid timbre.

His. 

A flash of green eyes with slit pupils looking steadily into hers.

Prove yourself, Ulquiorra.  
Please prove yourself, so that I can protect _you._  
Her eyes closed tightly.  


Fate was funny sometimes.  
Because their situations were reversed now.  
And if she could bring him back, he would be the one living amidst a circle of her friends who wouldn't hesitate to kill at a command.  
She was the one holding the rope to the guillotine blade looming over his head now.  
She'd make him understand, and she'd do it her way this time. 

Her face changed into one of hardened determination as her fledgling trust in him continued to flutter stubbornly in her heart.

There was a clapping in the air, jolting her thoughts back.  
"Now, everyone!" The shop-keeper finally slapped his paper fan into the table with a declaration.  
"Let's all have dinner, shall we?"

\---

After a small meal of soy chicken, gingered rice and a steaming bowl of fish soup -  
Inoue found herself walking out of the shop, staring up at the sunset with her friends following closely behind her.  
The weakness that shook her bones and made her muscles quiver with fatigue was gone, replaced by the newfound warmth of the comfort food she'd hungrily welcomed, settling into her belly.  
It was a good feeling. 

After a wave of goodbye to Rukia and Renji, they disappeared in sharp flashes towards a Senkaimon leaving for Soul Society. 

The three remaining friends walked her home, refusing to part ways despite her insistence.  
They began to brief her on her missed days of school, and casually exchanged updates on lessons, even if they all knew their minds were elsewhere.  
Before long, they'd turned the corner leading up to her flat.  
"Rest up over the weekend. If anything happens, Urahara-san will let us know right away." Ishida duly informed the girl with a tight smile.  
"Take care of yourself, Inoue-san." Chad provided stoically from beside the raven-haired boy. 

"Inoue..." The ginger-haired boy murmured.  
He gave a rough nod to send her off, and the hardened look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

"Mm!" Inoue piped. 

She gave them all her brightest smile.  
And then, they were leaving, and she was pushing her keys into the lock of the steel fence outside the entrance to her apartment. 

She stepped over the threshold, closing the rusted gate behind her and sending the archway of the main entrance a look.  
And then she was slowly making her way up, face lowered, ginger strands falling like a shrouding curtain hiding a tightened mouth.

Only one thought was in her mind now: 

The 6 ashen flecks she'd somehow decided not to mention. 

\---

The first thing she did as soon as she stepped into her apartment and set aside her shoes, was walk to her brother's photo, framed in the middle of her simple ancestral altar.  
"I'm home, Sora..." She began with a lift of her head.  
Her eyes swept lovingly over his beaming face before lowering to the floor.  
"It's been crazy the past few days, hasn't it?" She laughed mirthlessly, her eyes pressing up into trying beams for him out of habit.  
"I'm sorry I wasn't around to tell you...- I..."  
She bit at her lip, finally pulling her gaze back up. 

"Please... just watch over me..." Her voice suddenly cracked. 

The photo smiled back warmly, and just as always she felt a little bit better.  
She lingered before pushing her hands together in a sincere moment of prayer.  
And then her eyes turned away and landed on the table. 

The little bowl greeted her silently, gleaming just a little bit in the darkness.  
Inoue walked over to it and lowered to her knees.  
She leaned her face in, mentally counting each memorized piece of him under the saran wrap until she'd made sure every fleck was in place.  
It occurred to her as she pulled away, how morbid the whole thing was.  
Only... she didn't seem to care anymore. 

After all the events that had transpired within the last three days, the idea she was keeping some decomposing part of her enemy hardly made a dent in her consciousness. 

Had she always been so numb or macabre?  
It was so unlike her!

Funnily enough, the thought only reminded her that there was still stale food in her refrigerator.  
She gave a sigh as she dusted herself off and rose from the mat, listening to the familiar creaks of her wooden floorboards as she approached the kitchen. 

After a quick assessment of the fridge and spoilage, she decided to clear some of its contents for the midnight garbage disposal.  
Snapping on a pair of rubber gloves, she began a minor scrub-down before extracting the portioned meals she'd previously cooked, pushing the mushy contents into a black plastic bag to take out. 

Once, she was done, she took to her room for a nice, hot shower.  
An hour later and she was back out, fastening the last button on her favorite, most comfortable pair of flannel pajamas before reaching up and sorting out the tangles of her wet locks. 

Her body sagged with exhaustion.  
Put through an emotional, spiritual and physical wringing, assaulted by the winter chill, and then warmed with food and a bath; she could feel her eyelids practically falling shut as she wound her hair up into a loose bun and re-fastened her hairclips. 

Looking at herself in the mirror, she ignored the pale face staring back at her. Instead, her eyes rose to the glinting shards peeking out through ensnared auburn tendrils, an expression of fixedness causing her to subtly frown.  
She plucked the four Reishi Limiting wristbands from the bathroom countertop and tucked them into one flannel, bunny-patterned pocket.

She would do this, though she didn't know how exactly to prepare herself physically or mentally for the task.  
She would just have to try, and give it her all.

Yoruichi-san mentioned that she could only connect with Ulquiorra's Reiatsu if she was unconscious...  
Her mouth twisted, almost humorously.  
Falling asleep was going to be much easier than staying awake at this point.  
But the pieces of him in that bowl meant there was a possibility, however small, that she could restore him if she simply called her shield.  
The idea there was something tangible in front of her that she could already work with, made it even more sensible, though at this point, seemingly impossible.  
She'd never Negated anything so dead and gone.  
They were literally just ashes. 

But if Urahara-san went through all the trouble to make these Reiatsu limiters, they actually did believe she could do it somehow.  
The thought alone was enough to nudge her legs into a surprisingly determined walk, back to the foyer.  
It didn't matter if they had conflicting interests.  


"Yes. Let's do this, Inoue." The girl whispered with fervor.  
She dropped down in front of the bowl and extracted the four wristbands from her pocket, placing each one on a corner around it.  
"I'm sorry." The girl couldn't help biting out.  
It would stifle his energy, and she almost felt bad for it.  
But unless she was okay with having an arm plunged through her chest, she'd be needing all the restraints she could get.

"Ulquiorra..."  
The whispered name only met with silence. 

She spread her arms out over the bowl.

The light from the moon glistened over the ceramic rim, casting a pale glow around the table, spilling over the skin of her forearms and stitching its shadows to the edges of the wood.  
The familiarity of seeing her limbs and fingers bathed in that ethereal silver brought the thoughts back.  
His silhouette against the light in the hall, the couch in her prison, the bare branches of the trees swaying to the desert winds outside her window.  
"... Do you believe me, still?"  
His voice in the darkness, perhaps in the confines of her mind, breaking through the quiet in the room. 

Her heart began to pound, just a little faster, just a little stronger as her mind immersed her in that other world.  
And then she'd closed her eyes and called her fairies.

"Soten Kisshun." Came the determined whisper. 

Behind her eyelids, she whispered a silent prayer to whatever gods had ever listened, she thought of her brother, she thought of her friends.  
... And then she thought of him. 

Her forehead wrinkled with concentration as she took her deep breaths and channeled her power.  
And then Inoue felt her hands beginning to warm, welcoming the intense golden light entering the darkness of her vision. 

Her breaths steadied into an even rise and fall as she tried to focus.  
And then her shoulders were sagging, as the energy began draining out of her.  
Her head lowering, and nodding off. 

In the recesses of her mind, she thought perhaps, she'd seen - only briefly, a flickering wisp of his green light. 

And then everything was fading out. 

\---

"... Woman." His soft velvet broke into her concentration. 

Inoue opened her eyes, meeting with nothing but blackness that stretched on eternal.  
For a moment, she felt disoriented, in a state of vertigo trying to decipher any rules of up or down, any sort of height or depth - anything that defined the planes of this realm.  
Her eyes found nothing, and she simply floated, whether forward or back, upwards or down, she didn't know.  
Did she even have a body?  
The thoughts grew sticky, melding together along with any sense of measure in time.  
There was only Nothing, really.  
This must be the void parts of her consciousness Urahara-san was talking about.

 _Ulquiorra...?_ She willed her mind to speak the name.  
It echoed around her faintly, like a ripple of resonance.  
This stirring seemed to conjure something her senses began to pick up on -  
A presence beginning to form in front of her very person.  
It seemed to settle, adrift with her, though it initiated no physical contact.  
She almost _wanted_ to feel something from him.  
Her human senses struggled desperately to find a foothold in this place with no meaning.

"Ulquiorra...-" She attempted.  
"Is it really so wise of you to come back to this particular part of your consciousness." He finally continued in that toneless way of his. 

"Wh..- What... do you mean?" She heard herself say, gradually finding her physical voice.  
Her eyes peered out into the black until white speckles danced in front of her vision, like grains of sand.  
"Reckless. As usual..." He whispered from all around her immediate vicinity.  
"... Inviting your own death." 

"Well, Ulquiorra, that seems to be the norm when we're together, don't you think?"  
She gave an almost tired sigh and closed her eyes.  
Truly, did he still plan to scare her into submission every single time?  
Besides, shouldn't he be at least a _little_ grateful that she'd come to see him?!  
"This is my consciousness, I think I can do whatever I want..." She stressed with a slight bit of hurt.  
"I suspect... you do not realize the gravity of the situation..." Came the lower, pressing tone.  
"Continue to wander here, and you may never wake."

"I didn't mean to _come_ here... I just..." Inoue trailed off.  
"I've decided to bring you back, and I haven't changed my mind." She finally admitted.  
"... and what of your earlier conflict? You mentioned you were no longer certain..." He murmured. 

It was entirely strange, the way she was staring out at nothing, and conversing with his formless voice in the dark.  
Her senses were quickly adjusting, despite that, latching on with their entirely to every dulcet layered word that came from him. Imagining his alabaster form and that issued white uniform, standing on solid ground in front of her.

"Well, Ulquiorra, you can't stay in here forever." She reasoned, visualizing his face.  
"... I will not." The man answered softly. "- If you simply let go."

"... What?" Inoue whispered. 

She could almost see him slipping out from the shadows, approaching her with those silent, measured steps.  
"The idea of me and my existence." He said resounding from all around her.  
"Move on. Forget, and I will eventually fade away. The Nothingness will consume me."  
"But..." Inoue began.  
"-Have you not realized..." He broke in slowly.  
"- It is your own mind that keeps me existing in this world. Your soul, and its will... that continues to Reject my death. My defeat signalled an end, and it was by the hands of your Kurosaki Ichigo."

"He's not _mine_?!" She blurted unthinkingly.  
And why exactly was that the first thing she'd even decided to say to everything thus far.  
Her throat tightened, ears continuing to strain for him as she cast feeble looks around. 

A quiet scoff of breath.  
She could almost imagine him closing his eyes. 

"That is not the point, woman..."  
If only she didn't know him so well, if she just hadn't gotten so familiar with every little quirk she'd keenly devoured... - She could almost believe a semblance of warmth there.  
"I can't." She mentally shook her head.  
"... What?"  
"I can't do that. I don't want to forget."

Inoue found herself disregarding the bracelets in her room.  
The agreed-upon plan of everyone mutually involved.  
In her mind, there was only the sincerity she continued to hold on to.  
The trust beginning to resurface more strongly than ever. 

Why would Ulquiorra encourage her to forget him, if it was in Aizen's plan that he use her to come back.  
She stilled. Her heartbeat beginning to rise with a flooding warmth.  
With renewed hope. 

"We might not have gotten along all the time. I... don't even really know if you'd ever done anything for me that wasn't ordered by Aizen. To be honest, I still don't know if you've ever told the complete truth, Ulquiorra. And... you might be an enemy, and this whole thing is wrong, but..." 

He remained quiet then. 

"Ulquiorra..." She suddenly didn't know what to say.  
A pause lingered between them.  
...  
"You should not trust me, woman." Came his oddly cautionary piece of advice.  
"I..." Inoue trailed off.  
"I know that. But I...-"  
Her mouth closed tightly. 

"... You want it." Came his whisper.  


In the dark, His words and their striking accuracy caused unrelenting feelings to stir in her.  
Unsuppressed thoughts and confessions...  
Inoue's heart began to beat faster.  
Her awareness prickling as she sensed his form linger.  


And then his touch was there.  
The ghosting brush of fingers trailing up her neck. 

"You want this..." His velvet timbre continued, lifting with an unspoken question. 

She felt a single appendage gently slide under the arch of her chin, tilting her face up at a familiar angle.  
"Is that why you are here?"  
She closed her eyes to the lull of that tone as it descended over her.  
The barest tingle underneath her consciousness in reaction to his presence.  
Her breaths, she felt them now...  
Growing thinner, her inner confines swelling.

"When you disregard right or wrong, there is only what you desire."  
The voice tenderly parted her as a solid pressure encircled her waist.  
"... Is that what this is?"  
He was pulling her against him, his breath falling feather-light against her skin. 

"... I want to save you."  
Inoue shook with the admittance, sinking mindlessly into the stronghold.  
Her heart was beginning to thump painfully hard against her chest and under the skin of her neck as his presence gradually brought her awareness to the existence of her body.  


"Human beings..."  
The softness of his mouth brushed upwards along her jaw.  
"... are so irrational."  
She released a small sound, as that gentle frown grazed along her ear.  
Every coasting touch of him brought back another part of her as she began to feel a steadily igniting rush course into the void that had previously robbed her of a form.

"Please... let me take you back with me..." Inoue whispered against him.  
She mentally reached up, her arms bracing against invisible hard shoulders in the emptiness.  
Her right palm touched at the familiarity of that smooth ivory helm, fingers trickling down the gaps of the spine-like formations before clutching into those silken strands. 

"Please... Ulquiorra."

And then she was leaning up, feeling the tip of her nose brush against his chin.  
He remained motionless, allowing her enough of the moment to trace at the subtle corners of his frown with the tips of her fingers.  
She felt him lower minutely.  
"You speak as if you give me a choice..." His voice dropped.  
"But in prolonging your stay here, you are forcing me to act on your behalf."  


At the implication, she felt herself breaking into a smile.  
She knew it had been him, the glowing green that shielded her the last time she'd encountered this void.  
A warmth she didn't expect rushed into her, obliterating any kind of numbness that had settled.  
"You care for my life..." Came the fervent whisper. 

... A breath from him as he felt her vibrant humanity.  
Her abundant heat flooding through his barren, lacking form.  


Her heart.  


"In all the times I have repeated myself for you... You suspected I was lying?" He responded with a toneless query.  
Inoue felt her chest burst with happiness hearing his answer. 

And then her mind prodded with another thought.  
The question instinctively pushed out of her mouth.  
"And if Aizen ordered you to kill me... even now?"  
She leaned up blindly, stubborn and straining for an answer. 

He was quiet.  
And she noticed that he hadn't bothered to correct her with proper terminology this time.  
... He was unnervingly still. 

"Ulquiorra...?" She whispered against him, trying valiantly to feel for any sort of reaction.

The silence pressed on causing her to hesitate.  
And just as she was beginning to draw back, Inoue felt him respond, surging decisively into her touch, his mouth suddenly pressing into hers.  
He clenched at her waist and her arms instinctively tightened around him as he kissed her.  
It was vivid, surprisingly filled with passion as he bit at the partitions of her lips and urged her to open for him.  
A harsh breath escaped him as she delicately swept out with her tongue, meeting him halfway in his own aggressive exploration.  
And it no longer mattered how two shapeless forms floating in a dark, abysmal void could manage such a thing, because whatever was left of her coherence could only fumble with the realization... that she had been waiting.

.

.

She had been waiting for this moment. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Thus, we move on!  
> They finally meet again and I hope that was worth the endless drone of dialogue and information the rest of the chapter had.  
> I'm sorry if there was an utter lack of UlqHime. 
> 
> I know it can be off-putting, so I'll try my best to make up for it in the future chapters. :3
> 
> Thank you, as always for the ones who stay and read.  
> For the ones who take time to leave comments.  
> For the members and guests who come across the story and leave Kudos. 
> 
> You guys feed me the inspiration to keep going.  
> So thank you, for the simplest comments and kudos... I am grateful.  
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> \- Second_Best


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